Fate's Dark Tango
by jlgrant
Summary: When the wrong decisions are made, fate intervines. Complete.
1. The End Is Only the Beginning

**Authors Note: **I'm not very content with the state this story is in. It is in need of some serious editing, and I am aware that there are loads of errors that need ironing out. This is something I plan to do, but at a time when I can really get my teeth into it and do it justice. I don't have the time to do this at the moment. In the meantime, I hope any errors don't take too much away from the story as a whole.

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AN: I accidently deleted chapter one, not quite sure how! So now this is chapter one...

Please note: I have set the story during the Kay timeline, because there is no way this could take place in 1871 (movieverse) because of the Franco-Prussian War and the Paris Commune.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera.

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Chapter One: The End Is Only the Beginning

_Paris 1881_

The cold air of the church whispered echoes of lost, forgotten memories. Memories that now lingered in the eternity of time. A wild fragrance of flowers floated into her head, intoxicating her senses, life snapped back. Reality was alive again.

Christine Daae hovered on the precipice of choice. Her head and heart were once again raged in an internal conflict. In her head it was simple, her choice as was clear as the morning sky; stay or go. Still, it seemed each direction was blurred by unanswered feelings and unnamed emotions.

The single red rose she held in her hand had been the cause of her turmoil.

Months, it had been months since the choices had been made and hearts had been broken. Life had moved on now, but still she lingered, bound to the ghost that pulled her into the past.

It had been months, but the same questions hammered at her head like the sound of a distant drum. Why had it been today? Her wedding day…

The day the long stemmed red rose had arrived in all of its beautiful purity. One thought ravaged at her mind and ate away at her tender soul, how had he known?

The choice was clear. She could walk forward, down the aisle to a life that was already laid at her feet. A life of privilege, gentle embraces and tender moments. Or she could turn and run, like she had so many times before. Run to the life of unknown passion that already consumed her soul, the desire she craved but had so long been afraid to want.

Christine could no longer deny the feelings that clung to her like the remains of a lingering winter. It hadn't subsided, or faded, and she could not forget it. She did not want to forget it. But she had to choose; walk into her future or turn around and face her fate.

She looked at the rose again, and this time her heart told her the answer.

The soft wind of morning caressed her face and stroked her knees as she ran, skirts in hands, as once again Christine Daae escaped, barefoot in a wedding dress.

XXXXX

_Six months earlier… _

Raoul de Chagny woke up a happy man, the sun twinkled through the curtains and softly coaxed him form his slumber_. It's really over!_ He thought as a smile spread over his handsome lips. The ordeal was finally over, Christine was safe resting in a bedroom not far from his own. For the first time in a long time he felt like he could breathe again, there were no masks haunting his every waking moment.

"Good morning, Marie" he cheered at the maid as he descended the grand staircase to breakfast, he gave her a winning smile and grinned inwardly as she blushed a deep crimson.

"Ah, Raoul, there you are!" a voice bellowed from the bottom of the stairs. Philippe de Chagny stood with his arms folded across his chest, staring disapprovingly at his younger brother.

"Philippe," Raoul nodded, "what might I ask has you looking so vexed this early in the morning?"

Philippe looked at his brother with a mixture of disdain and utter shock. But he managed to maintain he usual indifferent and aloof composure.

"Two words my dear young brother, Christine Daae" he said with a mocking gesture of his hand to the floor above and a snigger to his thin lips.

"Yes, my fiancé is here sleeping upstairs why would she be anywhere else?" chided Raoul, his cheery demeanour disappearing by the second.

"Might I suggest anywhere but here! There are plenty of respectable inns and hotels in the city, where a young woman of her _status_ and background would feel perfectly at home. Why do you insist on bringing shame on our good name! The name generations of our family have preserved, and yet you mock it with every moment you spend with that young woman! It simply will not do!" Philippe bellowed unable to bite his poisoned tongue.

"When you've quite finished," Raoul hissed "she is my fiancée, Philippe, I love her. She has been through an ordeal like neither you nor I can imagine, and she will stay here. We are getting married. And you will learn to respect that. Or... I suppose we could always elope, run away without getting married. How would that make the _family reputation_ look!'

Philippe was left speechless as Raoul stormed away from him. He stared after Raoul in utter surprise. However much he hated the idea of the troublesome diva and his precious brother marrying, he admired this sudden change in Raoul. This ordeal had hardened a part of him, whether he liked it or not, Raoul had grown up. His younger brother was no longer the doormat he had once been. _Something's changed_ he smirked to himself _you're a de Chagny now, my boy! _

XXXXX

Christine was curled in a protective ball at the door of the guest bedroom. Trying to shut out the sounds of a busy household and ignore the melancholy of her mind. She had heard the exchange between the two brothers and it made her heart ache. She had begged Raoul to let her stay at an inn for the night. At least until her presence in the grand house had been cleared with the de Chagny family. But Raoul being the complete gentleman that he was had insisted.

"I'm never going to risk losing you again" he had said with a firm resolve and sincere eyes. And still numb to the shock of the evenings events she had followed him blindly. He was her oldest friend, and her fiancée, and she knew her perplexed mind and soul could find solace with him. She loved him, she would be safe with him.

After everything she could not bear to be a nuisance, she sighed inwardly _I've gone from being the most loved and wanted woman in the whole of Paris, now it seems my very presence is a hindrance. _And despite her sombre demeanour she had to smile at the irony of it all. She knew one other person who would appreciate the ridiculousness of this situation, _him, _she sighed as a single tear escaped from her eye.

Half an hour later, when she had managed to peel herself off the bedroom floor, she resolved herself to dress and face the day ahead. _Time to face the music_ she thought grimly. She chose to replace the wedding gown she had been wearing since the day before, with a simple black dress. It was strange, she had been forced to put the wedding gown on, but now it saddened her to part with it. It was a symbol of one man and his all consuming love for her, the symbol of his undoing.

She tried hard not to notice that the maid was staring at her as she helped her dress, _so you're what all the fuss hes been about _she imagined the maid was saying to herself as she pulled the cords of Christine's corset.

"How are you today, ma'am?" the maid said suddenly, Christine was pulled away from her reflections. Shocked at the apparent concern in the girl's voice.

"Excuse me?" was all Christine could manage to say.

"Oh, I didn't mean to be rude, ma'am, or forget my place. It's just from what I've heard, you've had a bit of an ordeal recently," the maid blushed, scared she had overstepped the mark. This was the Vicomte's fiancée after all, even though they were both from the same humble backgrounds, this woman would soon be her mistress, she should not have spoken without being asked. She inwardly berated herself for her stupidity.

"Thank you" Christine said suddenly, overwhelmed by this simple gesture of kindness. This girl did not know her, but her eyes displayed concern for Christine's situation. She had obviously overheard the brother's argument too. "I'm sure I'll be fine, all I need is time" Christine said with a wry smile, the maid nodded in silent reply.

"What's your name?" Christine asked, intrigued by the humble kindness of this stranger.

"Marie, miss, the master has asked me to be your maid, I shall be helping you"

"I'm glad, it's nice to make your acquaintance, Marie, and please call me Christine."

Marie smiled and carried on with her duties.

Christine sighed to herself, knowing what she had said was a lie; _I'll never be the same again, not after you, what do I now? _She said to herself, but also to the man she knew would never hear her.

She had relived every moment of the previous night in her head, over and over. Each look, each breath and each touch. _It should have been so different_ she sighed to herself. What did he expect her to do; he had gone mad with a jealous rage, his tormented soul seemed lost forever. She had done the only thing she could to bring him back, the simple gesture of a kiss. A taste of unconditional love...

It was meant to release them both, but it hadn't. It had only left her with was an endless longing, an open wound that was too fresh to heel.

He had come back though, from that dark place, at the last moment, and he had set her free. But Christine knew she would never be free, she would always be haunted by the echoes of his glorious voice, and the brilliant intensity of his eyes. She was bound to him in more ways than one. And what scared her more than anything was the fact she didn't care.

_Where are you now? _She whispered to the mirror, to the reflection of herself. The person she no longer recognised. _God, I loved you, I love you both! If it's possible to love to people at the same time, then I do. But you scared me! your power scares me; I couldn't let Raoul die, my best friend. Please understand, I didn't know what to do…and I still don't. _

She wiped the tears from her face, it was too late now. Crying could not turn back the hands of time. She left the safety of her room and made her way to find Raoul, leaving her grief soaked thoughts to linger.

XXXXX

A large mansion loomed over the hilltop, like a dark spectre. The area around it seemed to be cloaked in eternal shadow. Shrouded by mists and whispers. One window was lit by the flicker of a distant fire, burning like a tormented heart.

Erik stared into the flames, the shadows made menacing patterns on the white mask that covered half of his face, and half of his soul. He took a long swig from a bottle of brandy, his only companion for last few, lonely days. He threw the almost empty bottle against the wall and revelled in the way the dark liquid trickled down the wall, _like blood,_ he thought to himself wickedly.

It was night; he was sure, his only true friend. Time seemed now almost non existent. His mood had changed almost hourly, from the murderous red mist that often took over him, to the stony sarcasm that made him laugh at the absurdness of the whole situation, _to finally get her acceptance, only to throw it away! To be given the warmth of an angels kiss, to then lose it forever!_ _I should not have tried to mingle with creatures from heaven… And my Christine is pure heaven. _

He sighed, as tears now fell freely down his exposed cheek._ No more angels for me_ he thought with a dry smirk, his resolve returning _maybe its time to embrace the darkness God seems to continually condemn me to. If it's an angel of doom he wants, then mark my words that is what he will get. The time for feeling is at an end. The only euphoria I crave now is my old friend…power. _With that he rose from the chair and stalked over to the desk, laced in dust from misuse and neglect. He pulled out a piece of parchment and began his letter.

_My dearest Daroga…_

XXXXXXX

Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera.


	2. Parties and Persian Men

Chapter Two: Parties and Persian men.

"What do you mean it's too soon?" Raoul de Chagny said, giving his fiancé a quizzical look, she stared back at him from the mirror of her vanity.

"I'm just not sure I'm ready to face high society, Raoul, you know as well as I do how those people can be, how they will think! It's only been two months since..." she trailed off, and began fiddle with a hair brush. "I'm just not sure my presence at this party will be appreciated" she finished willing him to understand.

"I know you've been through a lot my little Lotte," he began with a reassuring smile "but so have I, we went through that ordeal together, remember? Now that maniac is gone, he's gone, Christine, there's nothing to be afraid of, we are going to this party together to prove to everyone its all in the past, we need to start thinking of the future, our future together. Society be damned!"

Christine lowered her eyes, she knew how much he wanted to mean that last statement, but society would always be important to him. It was the burden of being born with a title. She could also not bear Raoul calling _him _a maniac, it felt like a knife in her gut.

And yet she couldn't blame him for his hate or his hurry to return to normal life. He had almost died, and all to save her, so they could share this kind of life together, _forever. _Christine was suddenly scared by the intensity of that single word.

"Here I have something for you" Raoul said.

It was Christine's turn to stare in bewilderment. Raoul pulled an elegant box from his expensive suit pocket.

"To replace the one you _lost_"

He handed the box to Christine who accepted it with shaking hands, inside was a beautiful diamond ring, a large one in the centre with two smaller ones either side, even bigger than the original, it seemed too big for her delicate hand.

"Raoul it's…too much," She gasped. She meant it in every sense of the word.

"It's a new start, Christine, I want everyone to know that your mine, that we belong together! You have the ring and now, and we can begin to plan the wedding."

"Raoul don't you think we should wait, at least a little while, after everything thats happened we need to be sure..." Christine said, feeling her hands begin to shake.

"I'm sick of waiting, Lotte; I want you to be my wife, there is nothing to be sure of. I know how I feel and I know how you feel" Christine lowered eyes again, _how can you know how I feel, Raoul, when I'm not sure myself. If this is what I want then why does my heart feel so strange?_

"My family minister has agreed to marry us in three months, can you believe it, Lotte! In three months we will me man and wife," Raoul in his merriment was seemingly oblivious to his fiancée's glazed expression.

"In a year who knows, there may be new additions to the de Chagny line" He smiled playfully at Christine who fought hard to disguise her shocked face.

"Now, the guests start to arrive in an hour, your ring will go perfectly with that sky blue dress you were planning to wear," he knelt down beside her and placed a kiss to her forehead.

"You will be the most beautiful woman in the room tonight, I love you, Christine."

She smiled sweetly at him as he rose and strode from the room. Christine was left alone, staring at her ring.

XXXXX

The party was exactly as Christine had predicted. Dazzling gowns and silk cravats. Pure elite mixing exclusively together as they discussed the decline of society, and questioned the presence of many folk from over their raised noses. _And I thought living in the ballet dormitories was tough! I'd rather be in the room with a hundred Carlotta's!_ Christine mused to herself with a rare smirk forming on her full lips.

She stood on her own sipping a glass of champagne, she wasn't stupid, she had heard the conditions Philippe had set out to Raoul regarding her attendance.

"I do not want a scene, brother!" he had bellowed at Raoul the previous evening.

She was more that happy to oblige to Philippe's request, she did not want to be here anymore than he wanted her to be. _It seems we have one thing in common, Philippe, _she resolved grimly. She found that she could not hate Philippe, in fact, she felt a small amount of sympathy for him. He had inherited the title of Compte from their parents and it was his duty to retain the proud de Chagny name. And his only brother had become engaged to the girl at the centre of Paris' latest scandal! It was no surprise to her that he seemed to hold higher regard for the guard dogs.

Raoul had tried to stay by her side for most of the night, but it seemed he was constantly being yanked away by a distant relative or family friend, whom all smiled politely upon introduction to Christine, but had then dragged him away, presumably to try and talk some sense into him. Many times she had been tempted to return to the safety of her room, to close the door and escape the pretence, shut out the whole world. She could maybe even summon Marie, who beside from Raoul, had become her only ally in the de Chagny residence.

The party carried on for hours, and the champagne had begun take its toll on Christine. She had finally decided to find Raoul and feign illness, she had lasted well, and held her own amongst the vipers of society. She had spoken to many women, whom she knew had only held conversation to attain a small piece of throwaway gossip. She had danced with a few young gentlemen, and had smiled sweetly at their polite conversation, and laughed at many a bad joke. Yes, she had definately done all that was to be expected. She had done her duty.

As she made her way across the grand ballroom, she noticed many of the guests turning their attention to the entrance. Christine followed their glances to find out what had caused the commotion. A feeling of dread gathered in her stomach.

A solitary man made his way through the crowds, he moved slowly, taking in the faces of the many guests. The crowd seemed to instinctively part for him. They seemed to know better than to get in his way. There was a power that oozed from this man, his thin eyes and thick moustache made him appear older than his years, which Christine guessed to be about thirty. Yes, there was definitely power there, only once before had she seen people react in this way to a lone man's arrival, the fated Bal Masque.

Yet there was a difference, this man did not have the commanding majesty of Erik. Erik had entered the room and instantly made it his own territory. The room had fallen silent and the noise of hushed breathes and gasps had echoed in her ears. "_Why so silent?"_ he had mocked, the memory made her pulse quicken. Christine knew each person in the room that night had felt like the prey of a hungry lion.

This man was different, he did not command the attention of the crowd, but earned their intrigue with his sly confidence; he gave Christine the impression of a snake, stalking its prey and biting only at the vital moment. As he approached she could feel his eyes taking in her lovely form, salivating inwardly at the rise and fall of her chest. He stared at her with intense recognition in his eyes. Yet in the fleeting moments that she stared back she could see no feeling there, his dark eyes were cold, like two dark pools of stone. Eyes so dark they did not seem to match the dark blonde of his swept back hair. Christine felt her insides sicken under his stabbing gaze. His mouth gave the slightest of reactions, Christine was sure she saw the hint of a smirk, but it was disguised by the heavy moustache that dominated his upper lip.

"Mademoiselle." He nodded with another invisible smirk. Relief washed over her as he disappeared into the crowds. But she was now left with a resolve to find out the identity of this mystery man, why did he seem to recognise her?

XXXXX

Half an hour later Christine was still searching for Raoul _where in gods name is he? _She mused; she hadn't seen him for least an hour. As she approached the back doors that lead into the rose gardens, she caught sight of him in a distant corner of the ballroom. He seemed to be deep in conversation with the mystery man and Philippe. The brothers did not look happy, and the anonymous man still retained a smug demeanour.

Something about this man gave her a sense of impending foreboding, but not to Raoul or Philippe, she knew it would take a very clever man to outsmart the elder brother, Erik certainly could, this man, no. His arrogance seemed to have been cultivated, he was not born with it, it did not exude from his every move like Erik, it seemed almost rehearsed. And this, for some reason, scared her even more.

"Ah, Edward Bertrand, I knew it was only a matter of time before he decided to show his face, should've kept it hidden in my opinion." Christine turned around. A man appearing in his early forties stood behind her, she was intrigued instantly by the copper tones of his skin, and the ornate designs on his clothing. He smiled at her warmly, and then at length he spoke again.

"Seems to have the de Chagny boys on their toes, I wonder what he's up to" Christine wasn't sure if he was talking to himself or to her.

"Monsieur?" She said with a slight frown.

"Oh, do forgive my rudeness, mademoiselle. My name is Nadir Kahn" he said adding a kiss to her knuckle. Christine smiled; there was a genuine sparkle in his eyes.

"Why is this the first time I have seen you tonight, monsieur Kahn?"

"Well, I'm ashamed to say that I have been keeping somewhat of a low profile, I'm not the type of person who usually makes an appearance at these sorts of _events... _I'm sorry I did not catch your name, mademoiselle…?" Nadir said trying to sound ignorant to her identity.

"Oh, forgive me, its Christine, monsieur. Christine Daae" She noticed the slightest of twinkles in his brown eyes. The second stranger tonight to have some sort of recognition towards her. But she supposed her name was all over Paris at the moment.

"I'm guessing you won't be a _mademoiselle_ for much longer?" he said motioning to her ring.

"No, monsieur, I suppose I won't be" she replied, eyes lowered to the floor, in an instant she seemed to have travelled a million miles away. _Not the usual look of a young bride to be,_ Nadir noted with interest. _And why is_ _her dashing fiancée discussing business, and not at her side?_ Nadir shook the thoughts from his head, critical as they were, they were not his only purpose for attending the party tonight. He needed to keep a close eye on Edward Bertrand.

"Tell me, monsieur Khan, what do you know of Edward Bertrand?" _An inquisitive little thing _Nadir mused _I can see why Erik loves her so. _

"Well, mademoiselle, from what I gather he is, or rather was, part of one of the richest families in Belgium, he was the younger of two brothers, until the older one _passed on_ last year. Then his father went not two months ago, leaving him with the vast family fortune. Rumour has it he's here looking for a bride." A chill shot up Christine's spine.

"Why has he come to Paris? Surely there are plenty of women in Belgium!"

"That I do not know, mademoiselle" he looked at her with concern in his warm eyes.

"Do not fret over the likes of Edward Bertrand; you have no reason to ever cross his path. I hope you have everything you desire, Christine, do not spend life in regret, you must live for yourself." Christine had closed her eyes during his last cryptic statement; it was as if he could see the emotional tug of war in her heart. She fought hard to keep the tears at the back of her eyes.

"Thank you, monsieur, that helps more than you know."

"Know what?" Christine's eyes snapped open to see Raoul standing next to her.

"Oh, Raoul, forgive me, I was talking to…" she looked around to an empty space, the doors to the rose garden were moving softly in the night breeze.

"Where did monsieur Khan go?"

"Who? Christine, I didn't invite anyone called monsieur Kahn to the party"

"Oh, I must have been confused, never mind, Raoul, is everything alright?" _why am I protecting his identity?_ She thought to herself.

"Perfectly fine now I'm with you. Come, its midnight and I intend to dance with my bride to be, before the end is upon us!" Christine nodded in acquiesce, but her mind lingered on the two strange men she had encountered that evening. One thought remained above all others, _why did they both seem so interested in me?_

XXXXX


	3. In Dreams I Belong to Thee

Chapter Three: In Dreams I Belong to Thee.

_Christine writhed back against the sheets, they seemed to chain her to the bed, the heavenly intoxication of panted breaths and gasps hypnotized her__. She let herself go, abandoning her soul. She clung to the shoulders of the man above her, as if he were the anchor to her floating heart, "please be real," she heard herself whisper desperately "I need you to be real!" Then she saw the beautiful face of her angel, smiling a genuine smile as he leaned forward to capture her lips in a kiss…_

Christine woke with a jump, her skin was damp with a silky layer of perspiration. The expensive silk sheets were wet with sweat. It had been like this since the night she had left him, her dreams seemed determined to lead her into temptation. _This is how you should be living!_ They seemed to scream to her, _this is the life you really want…_

For months she had denied it, the emotion and pure passion of her dreams scared her. And so, she had left them there, in the night. Doing her best to avoid it during the day, when all of her thoughts would be of sunshine and daylight. But then, once again, she would be haunted at night. She would follow the hand of temptation into slumber. These deep feelings did not seem possible in real life, it was as if such love could only exist in darkness and dreams.

_But how will you ever know, unless you seek it out? _The voice continued to whisper, like a small devil on her shoulder.

"It's true," she whispered back to the darkness, "how will I ever know?" sleep once again claimed her before she could hear night's reply.

XXXXX

It was already eleven in the morning when Christine descended the grand staircase of the de Chagny mansion. It really was a beautiful house; lush portraits of generations gone by decorated the walls, in their elaborate golden frames. The beautiful marble floor shone like a proud mirror.

Her room itself was a domain of beauty, lilac walls decorated with intricate flowers. The large four poster bed that sat in the middle of the room was laden with white silk sheets and pink pillows, it really was like sleeping amongst the clouds in heaven. _So why is it then, that you crave the passionate fires of his hell? _The voice mocked in her head, she shook the thoughts away and rushed to find Raoul.

She knocked on the mahogany door that lead to Raoul's office and entered, as she always did, without waiting for a reply; she closed the door silently with her back to the room.

"I'm so sorry for my absence at breakfast this morning, Raoul, I really did have a dreadful night's sleep, and I hope nobody was…" she almost choked on her last word as she saw the cold face of Edward Bertrand staring back at her, the familiar twitch evident on his lips.

"I'm flattered, mademoiselle, that you took me to be your fiancée! I had not noticed the resemblance between myself and le Vicomte." He smoothed his moustache with his bony fingers.

"I didn't see you there, monsieur, please forgive my intrusion," Christine stuttered trying to keep her voice even. "I'll find Raoul later, excuse me please." she turned to leave, and almost had her hand on the handle when Raoul opened the door and came face to face with her.

"There you are! I was looking all over for you this morning! Are you alright, Lotte? Ah, I see you have become acquainted with monsieur Bertrand!"

"It seems your fiancée had a rather _restless_ night, Vicomte, you should do more to keep her stimulated during the day! It does a young lady no favour's to become bored." Bertrand sniggered. Christine scowled at him inwardly.

"Enough of your dry humour!" Raoul jested at Bertrand, grinning wildly. _Raoul can't actually like him!_ Christine grimaced, once again feeling his eyes of stone devouring the sight of her.

"You'll get to see a lot more of Edward now, Christine," Raoul continued, oblivious to his fiancées discomfort "he's just agreed to help me finance some new business deals."

"Yes, you could go so far as to call us partners" Bertrand grinned.

"RAOUL, WHERE IN GODS NAME ARE YOU BOY!" Philippe bellowed from a distant hallway.

"What can he want now?" Raoul sighed, "excuse me a moment." And before Christine could protest, he had left the room.

"It seems we are quite alone again, mademoiselle, may I just say how beautiful you looked at the ball last month, quite a vision" Christine felt her throat dry out as Bertrand rose from his chair and walked towards her.

"The most beautiful woman in the room, and probably in any room, I might add" he reached out and touched her chin with his fingertips. I could give you so much, what a pity you already belong to another man."

"I do not belong to anybody, monsieur." Christine chided, trying to sound brave.

"Oh, we both know you do, mademoiselle, if you do not marry le Vicomte you will be quite alone, and this world is no place for an orphan girl, who knows what sort of _situations _you could find yourself in. We both know you will walk down the aisle in…two months is it?" Christine could feel herself crumbling. Bertrand left her side and slithered towards the door.

"If you change your mind about le Vicomte, I will be very happy to accommodate you in whatever way you may need_,_ you never know we might be able to come to some sort of _mutual agreement_" the lump that had formed in Christine's throat was beginning to burn.

"Oh, and mademoiselle Daae," he called back from the doorway.

"Yes?" she answered with a slight crack in her voice.

"Try not to fraternise with strange Persian men in the future, it is most unbecoming of a future Viscomtess"

Only when she heard the door click shut did she allow her tears to fall.

Having made her way back to the safety of her room, Christine shut the door behind her and slid down to the soft carpeted floor. Hot tears stung her face as she cradled her knees into her chest. The very thought of that man made her flesh itch. Yet there had been some truth in his stinging words, she would be alone if she did not marry Raoul. Meg and Madame Giry were her only family and they did not return from Rouen for another two weeks. She needed somebody to talk to, someone of her own. _I've never been so confused _her mind sobbed.

The truth was that she had she had been confused since the moment Raoul came back into her life, and the moment Erik had ceased being an angel and become flesh and blood. It had been worse since that night, when she had kissed Erik to save Raoul, and sold her own soul in the process.

What confused her at this moment, more than anything, was that after Bertrand's vile remarks, it was not the arms of her fiancée she yearned to run to.

_You have to decide. _The voice continued to echo into her mind. _How do I decide! I love Raoul, but is it enough? Is it the way a wife should love her husband? Why is it not him I dream of? How can I marry him when my soul longs for the touch of another! But how can I break my best friends heart? Oh, why did they both choose to waste their love on me! _Her mind raged, the questions her soul already knew the answers to. _I shouldn't marry him, I don't deserve either of them._ She resolved with a rare moment of clarity.

XXXXX

It was late evening when Nadir Khan and his man servant Darius arrived back at Nadir's modest townhouse. The evening had been a complete waste of time, every reliable lead they had to on Bertrand had proved to be a dead end. _If I were still in the service of the Shah I'd be fed to the lions by now!_ Nadir resolved grimly, each source just another drunkard willing to make up lies for a few francs.

"Lies are not good enough..." muttered Nadir to himself as he made his way into his study. The study was a small room, with Persian tapestries decorating the walls and deep coloured rugs on the floor. Two red armchairs sat facing an unlit fireplace.

"There has to be something, somewhere. Bertrand is not that clever! Allah help me! What am I missing?" he bellowed as he poured himself a glass of brandy.

"I see your still talking to that infernal God of yours, Daroga. Still I suppose it's better than talking to yourself." Mocked a voice from one of the armchairs.

"Oh my…Erik, what in…you need to stop doing that, my boy! Most people wait for and invite, or write a letter…or at least knock!"

"I always find waiting to be invited rather tedious, and I think we both know by now, dear Daroga, I am not _most people_" Erik hissed. Nadir could sense the arrogant smirk on his face.

"Yes, indeed you are not. I sense that you'll never let me forget that!"

"Who is Bertrand, Daroga?" Erik said suddenly, still hidden in the armchair.

"A vile specimen from Belgium, I have reason to suspect he killed his father and brother, so he could inherit the family's vast fortune, now he's sniffing around the French aristocracy .And I'm determined to find out why!" Nadir stated to his masked friend, as he took his position in the vacant armchair.

"Ever the policeman, Daroga! Surely he cannot outsmart you? If such a man existed, I'd very much like to meet him!" Erik mocked dryly "why not just leave the man to it, from my _personal_ experiences with Parisian aristocracy I'd leave them all to rot" Nadir decided now would not be the best time to mention his chance meeting with Christine. He looked at Erik, who seemed deep in thought, _she wounded you deeply, didn't she my friend_ Nadir thought to himself.

"Please do not gawp at me, Daroga." Erik snapped without even moving his eyes.

"No, Erik, he is bad news. Don't be surprised if I need your help with this in the distant future, I don't like the way he is with women either" Nadir began to trail off "he seemed very taken with…" he stopped in his tracks, he had nearly said too much. The very mention of Christine being in danger in anyway would make Erik see red, and Bertrand would be dead by morning. He knew Christine was not in any danger, she was safe with le Vicomte, that was the reason Erik had let her go. Luckily Erik had been to lost in his own thoughts to notice.

"I'll help, Daroga, if things get more _interesting_," Erik remarked, "now I did come here for a reason, not just to hear about your latest wild goose chase! I have left some designs on your bureau, the envelopes are clearly marked with the addresses they are to be delivered to, have Darius deliver them first thing in the morning. This is important, Daroga." Nadir was about to argue that Erik should do his own dirty work when Erik spoke again.

"Help me with this, Daroga, and I'll help with this Bertrand joker of yours." Nadir nodded in agreement and they both rose from the chairs. Nadir walked over to his bureau and looked at the addressed marked on the envelopes.

"But, Erik these are all…"

"Addressed to the Parisian aristocracy," Erik smirked "it seems your Bertrand fellow and I share a common interest!" He bellowed from the doorway. Nadir was still studying each envelope.

"Don't worry, Daroga; it's just their money I'm interested in!" Before Nadir could respond. Erik had vanished. Nadir felt his stomach plummet; it was bad enough that the Parisian elite had the likes of Bertrand to deal with. And although he had never had much regard for the upper class, Nadir would not wish Erik upon his worst enemy.

XXXXX


	4. The Best Laid Plans

Chapter Four: The Best Laid Plans.

Erik stared again into the intense flames. His thoughts simmering as he looked into his burning looking glass. His thoughts dwelled, as they always did when he was alone, on the way his life had changed in the last few months. _An opera house to a manor house in the middle of nowhere!_ he thought with a wry smirk. He thought of the love he had been denied for most of his lonely life and how it had been his for a few beautiful, blissful moments; he had been given the gift of a lover's sweet kiss. And as quickly as it had been his, all had been lost again...

He had craved love for so long that it had become all that had consumed his dark heart and mind, just to love another person completely and feel the warmth of a lovers stare on his lonely face. The adoring look of being someone's soul, being their pulse. He knew now though that it couldn't be just any other person, he had allowed himself to fall completely for one person and nobody else would ever come close. He had opened his heart once and he knew it would never open again, not to anyone but Christine. She still owned his heart. And because he knew she would never return to him, _because she left _he thought darkly, his heart would remain locked. He would not settle for anything else, if he could not completely consume himself in her love, he would not love again. Ever. _If I can't have her ,_he thought to himself _I will never have anyone, and if I can't have love, I'll have power instead. _

Erik had seen, studied and witnessed what it was to have power in Parisian society. Nobility meant power, title meant power and money meant power. And he was determined to have all three. The first thing to do was bleed the Parisian elite dry; he had sent designs to every rich family in Paris, of buildings and houses they could only dream of. He had sent each a letter offering them the rights to the designs, they would be free use them, but they could not sell them. He knew exactly which family had received each design. And for a _fair_ price they could all enjoy beautiful summer houses and he could enjoy their money. _Everyone's a winner_ he smirked.

All they had to do was send and sign a letter of acquiesce and pay the money into an anonymous bank account. Then the designs were all theirs. It was amazing how many had already paid; the Parisian elite seemed to be enjoying the mystery of this reclusive architect. Known only by the initial _E_, which was signed at the bottom of every correspondence. In the coming weeks theatres would begin to receive music scores that would contain emotions not normally possible to the human heart. They would go mad listening to it. He knew they would pay greatly and generously for his music. Soon his visions and his music would be all over Paris. _I'll have power over the very society that has shunned me all of my miserable existence, and I intend to enjoy every moment of it. _Erik thought wickedly.

Something else had been troubling him since his visit to Nadir's house a few months ago. He had unwillingly obliged to help Nadir with his one man mission against Edward Bertrand. A seemingly callous and dishonourable fellow who had been sniffing around the richer parts of Paris. _Seems to be a man after my own heart,_ thought Erik. It was very unlike Nadir to take up a personal vendetta against man he had never met before. And Erik had unconfirmed suspicions that this was not the first time Nadir had crossed paths with Monsieur Bertrand. More often then not Erik's suspicions were correct. Whatever it was, Nadir seemed certain that he needed the help of the dormant opera ghost.

"Time I paid you another visit, my dear Daroga" Erik smirked to himself.

As he prepared himself for the three hour ride into Paris, a sudden thought crushed his menacing resolve. _She'll be getting married any day now. _And if it was possible he felt his heart harden even more.

XXXXX

The de Chagny mansion was a buzz of anticipation. Tomorrow the Vicomte would marry his lovely fiancée. The staff at the mansion were exited about having a new mistress, she seemed to be a lovely girl and always offered her bright smile and shining eyes when she thanked them for their service. Raoul had been striding around the house with a proud grin on his face all week; he looked as if he would burst with excitement. Tomorrow he would have the most beautiful wife in the whole of Paris, life didn't get much better.

There were two people, however, that did not seem to share in the household's merriment. One of them was Philippe de Chagny, try as he might, he could not be happy for his brother, he knew Christine wasn't right for Raoul. It was nothing personal, she did, on occasion, seem like a bright young girl and there was no denying her beauty. But he knew he would never accept her as a de Chagny. She was not good enough for Raoul.

The second person was the bride herself. She had not shown any enthusiasm to plan the wedding, and rarely left her rooms. She had descended into the realms of her soul, and she could not surface. She knew it was too late for decision making; she could not back out now, it would wound Raoul too deeply. And he did not deserve that. She did love him, in own her way, but she did not burn for him, he did not dominate her dreams. But he was kind, the kindest man she had known besides her father, and he was her best friend. And she knew they could be happy, but he would be marrying a ghost. The guilt of how she felt was painful, but she did not want her feelings to go away, they were keeping her alive.

The evening before her wedding day Christine had shut herself away, again. She should have been singing to herself and dreaming about the happiest day of her life. But Christine was once again curled in a ball, on the floor of her room; she seemed to enjoy punishing herself by inflicting the cold, hard surface on her delicate frame. Inflicting pain on herself to ease the guilt. But for once, it was not her masked man that haunted her thoughts; an encounter the previous evening had caused her to feel a new level of angst.

Raoul and Philippe had been at a business dinner in the city; Christine had decided to stay at the mansion to enjoy some time alone, away from the critical glare of Philippe. She had been sitting in the parlour, reading, when the butler came in and interrupted her escape from reality.

"Monsieur Bertrand is here to see you, ma'am" he said with a croaky and decaying voice. Christine looked up, alarmed, why was he calling at this hour? Why was _he _calling at all?

"Please James, tell him Raoul isn't here, I'm not really up to seeing anybody at this time of night, tell him to call again tomorrow" Why on earth did he want to see her? She tried sound strong in her resolve to James.

"I tried to put him off, ma'am, but he insisted that it was important, quite abrupt fellow if I may say so"

Christine sighed, "Very well James, send him in, thank you." She smiled at him sincerely and he gave her a concerned nod. Her heart had begun pound and she could feel bile rising in the back of her throat. She was scared of this man.

"How lovely you look this evening, mademoiselle," Bertrand said as he slithered into the room, Christine rose from her chair slowly. "I am here to see how the preparations for your imminent wedding are coming along" he walked up to her and placed a kiss to her knuckles. Christine had to fight the urge to slap his lecherous face.

"Yes, fine, monsieur, thank you for your interest," she began, pulling her hand away and trying to maintain a strong voice "maybe you should call again tomorrow, when Raoul is here, I really don't think I can be of…" _why does he always look at me like that! _

"It's still missing," he interrupted rudely. She threw him a questioning scowl, "the missing look of the blushing bride to be" He smirked "I saw it in your eyes the first time I met you, at the ball, you are not happy. Guilt drives you up the aisle" he had sat himself down, and was staring at her, she felt as though her body was being raped with his eyes. "You don't belong in this world, with this man, there is darkness in you. I can see it, you will hurt him, such a nice young boy does not deserve such a fate" He clasped his hands together, his elbows rested on the arms of the chair.

"You know nothing of me, monsieur, how dare you come in here and suggest these things! Please leave. You have no reason to be here." she was trying to fight the lump in her throat; she hated herself for being so weak.

"You are right, mademoiselle, I do not know you, but I intend to. And now I shall tell you something about me. I do not take rejection well, and I _always_ get what I want. And I want you, Christine Daae. I know you will not marry le Vicomte. And the streets of Paris are no place for an unmarried orphan, especially one as beautiful as yourself" His face now took on a serious edge. "So I have come here to make you an offer. If you do not marry the boy, I intend to take you in as my mistress, you will give me your body and I will give you a home and the passion you clearly crave, I think you will find the arrangement mutually beneficial" His lip began to twitch underneath his thick moustache. "And even if you marry le Vicomte, I can still have you, there are ways, remember that" Christine was shaking unbelieving of what she had just heard.

"Why me?" she sobbed "There are so many girls in Paris, please, I have never given you reason to think such things of me, I will never, ever feel anything for you." She was trembling, she needed him to go "Please, monsieur, I'm sure there is a woman somewhere that would love to…" but he cut her off again.

"The reason I want you, Miss Daae," He began slowly "Is because you are both innocence and darkness combined, and I will have you" he rose from the chair and grabbed her arms firmly, he planted a soft kiss to her cheek, and grinned perversely as she tried to writhe away.

Then he was gone.

Christine fell to her knees, she was trapped. _Either way I choose I cannot win_ she grimaced. "Oh, Erik..." she sobbed, "Where are you? I need you" but she knew he was gone, Madame Giry had told her months ago that he had deserted the Opera, he could be anywhere, and she knew that he must hate her. She had left him in the coldest place in the coldest way, to drown in his own despair. And although all decisions had been made out of confusion and hurt, she now doubted if she had made the right choice. _It is in your arms I wish to hide, _she thought, _none of this would be happening if I'd chosen you, that wretched Bertrand would never make such comments if it was you I was marrying. He would not dare. _Even with her world crumbling around her, Christine smiled at the thought.

XXXXX

It was late when Erik reached the Daroga's small town house; he only ever entered Paris under the protective cloak of night. He let himself in (as he always did) via the back door. He had always been good at picking locks, _you should know that by now Nadir! _he thought to himself. He made his was casually to the study, where he was certain to find the Persian, something caught his eye as he strode down the red carpeted hallway, the local newspaper sat on a small table. He stepped closer and read the headline:

**Anticipation fills the city on the eve of Vicomte de Chagny's wedding spectacular!**

Erik felt his fists tighten involuntary, his knuckles cracked. "So, it all ends tomorrow," he sniggered "was my invitation lost in the post, Christine!" as his lips said her name he felt himself begin to soften "_Oh, Christine_, don't make me this miserable for nothing, he better make you happy" a small tear escaped from his unmasked eye. He re-straightened himself and carried on to the study. He would not show weakness again, not even in front of Nadir.

"Evening, Daroga," he said as he entered the room with a mocking bow "Your security is somewhat lax from an ex policeman, who knows who could walk in!" Erik sat himself down with a pleased smirk.

"Indeed," Began Nadir "but I suppose anyone intending to break in would have seen you and thought better of it." Erik smiled at his friends quick retaliation.

"Touché, now as much as I enjoy these exchanges of wit, my old friend, there is a purpose to my visit. My _small_ bit of business with the Parisian elite seems to be going well, the fool's part with their money so easily!" Nadir raised a questioning eyebrow, which Erik chose to ignore. "Tell me more of this Bertrand fiend; your interest in him has intrigued me."

"So, now you choose to help!" Nadir snorted, _Erik seems unusually calm, he must not know what day it is tomorrow,_ he would not want to be around when Erik found out. "Very well, I shall tell you, I know you will not leave until I do, and I think I need your help" It was Erik's turn to shoot a questioning look.

"He is a foul sort Erik, as immoral and corrupt as they come, don't look at me like that, Erik, he is not like you. That would be a shame for the people of Paris!" Erik gave his friend a scowl, but then motioned with his hand for Nadir to continue, _why even after all these years does he make me feel like a guest in my own home? _Nadir thought to himself. "He is not like you my friend, he grew up with a loving family and a beautiful home, the world did not make him what he is, he did it himself. I knew his brother, Victor. He was a fine man, noble as blue blood, his only sin was to trust in his brother. And now he is dead. I refuse to believe it was an accident! Edward Bertrand in Paris means trouble."

"So, what do you propose we do, Nadir," Erik began "follow him around Paris! It could be years before he commits a crime again! This is absurd."

"There's more, its not just money he craves, Erik, my recent findings have lead me to believe he had serious involvement with the brothels of Belgium, and now he is sniffing around the bordellos and brothel's here…"

"You must have been sniffing around to, Daroga, to know all of this! So the man is guilty of taking pleasure in the company of a whore, find me one noble who doesn't! I fail to see how any of this is of a concern to me!" Erik bellowed.

"I don't know either, Erik, but something isn't right! He's shown interest in many of the young ladies in society, innocent ones Erik; he does not care for prostitutes anymore. I'm not sure of the connection yet, but I can guarantee it will be a sinister one!" Something about Nadir's plight managed to touch Erik and he gave a deep sigh.

"Very well, I'll help you get to the bottom of this. But _I_ am not going to step foot inside a brothel, we need someone younger, someone fresh faced, someone like…Darius?" he finished with a devilish grin.

"Erik, we couldn't do that to the poor boy." Nadir smiled back to his masked friend, it was a lot to ask of his young servant but it was the best way. _Damn you Erik, why do you always have to be right!_

"Find out which bordellos he's been visiting, I shall return in a week and we will get to the bottom of this mess. Then perhaps you'll leave me in peace." Nadir nodded in agreement. "Now if you will excuse me, it's late and I have one more thing to do this evening before I return home" Erik gave a curt nod and stalked from the room.

_Its actually almost morning_ Nadir thought to himself, as he rose from his chair to prepare for bed, then his whole body froze. _Her wedding day, oh please, Erik, don't do anything stupid!_

XXXXX

Dawn was breaking through the clouds as Erik rode away from the de Chagny mansion. He had climbed onto a balcony on the second floor and, by chance, entered a room filled with flowers. All pink and white, he left the blood red rose on a small table. A small way to tell her he would always love her, his own way to say goodbye...

_Forget me, Christine. _He had whispered to the room, and then he disappeared with a twirl of his cape.

XXXXX


	5. Confessions of a Runaway Bride

AN: Just so everything is clear the last chapter lead back to the intro, so this next chapter is set just after she's run away.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Chapter 5: Confessions of a Runaway Bride.

It was still morning when Christine reached the small apartment, situated in a less desirable part of Paris. She had received many a strange glare during her flight from the church, but she hadn't noticed, _just run! H_er mind had raged, _don't look back..._

More than anything she feared who might be following her. _It wasn't your fault, Raoul, _she thought as she waited impatiently for a reply from the owner of the apartment, _I didn't think, I just ran, I couldn't feel trapped any longer. Its time I try to take control of my own destiny. _She knew she would have to meet with Raoul and explain herself, she owed him that much. In fact, she owed him more, much more, but she could no longer deny her feelings. Even if she never saw Erik again, Raoul didn't deserve to be second best. She did not deserve forgiveness, from either of them. The tear that had been clinging to Christine lower lash made its way to the floor as she realised she had lost both of the men that had loved her.

Suddenly the door swung open to reveal a stern face and a trim body of immaculate posture. "Christine? What on earth are you doing here child?" Said the concerned voice of Madame Giry, still dressed in her travelling clothes from her return from Rouen. Christine did not reply, but instead, threw her small arms around the still figure of her old guardian. She could not stop the tears. It took Madame Giry half an hour to settle Christine; she had managed to sit her in a small armchair by the fire and draped a blanket around the young girl's shoulders.

"I'm…sorry…Madame," Christine began between sobs, her chin wobbling wildly, "I wanted you and Meg to be at the wedding so badly…b-but Philippe, oh, he is such a snob, Madame…and I didn't have the strength to argue…I'm so sorry." Her voice cracked and she began to sob again.

"From what I can gather my child, it would have been a wasted journey anyway," replied Madame Giry studying Christine's attire, "Come now, Christine, I don't want any more tears, tell me what has happened Cherie"

"Oh, Madame! It's been so awful, the last months have been hell, I couldn't go through with it. It wasn't fair to Raoul, I don't feel like I used to, I've been so confused and so wrong about so many things. I felt trapped, so trapped like a caged bird, but now that I'm free, I don't know where to fly," Christine lowered her eyes to the floor, she could not bring herself to tell Madame Giry about Bertrand, the very thought of him filled her with loathing.

"My dear Christine, I'm so sorry you've been through so much, and I have not been here to guide you," Madame Giry tried to fight her guilt, she should never have left this emotional child alone, she should have known the disaster at the Opera was not the end of all this business.

"Although it may not have been in the best way, quite the opposite in fact, I believe you have done the right thing in not marrying le Vicomte. It is cruel to deceive those we care about, and even crueler to deceive ourselves." Something in Madame Giry's statement reminded her of the cryptic words of Monsieur Khan at the Ball, _you must live for yourself. _Had he been trying to make her realise, even then? _Ridiculous! _Thought Christine, _he does not even know me, _and she forced the thought out of her mind. Madame Giry had been deep in thought herself, she was not pleased by this situation Christine now found herself in, and her maternal instincts made her worry for the girl. But one thought kept her resolve calm. _At least_ _Erik does not seem to play any part in this. _

"There's something else, Madame," Christine began, Madame Giry knew then she had thought to soon. "I – There was a red rose left for me this morning."

"Well, it's only normal for a bride to receive flowers on her wedding day my dear. Now, would you care for some tea?" Madame Giry rose from her chair, she knew what was coming, and she didn't want to have _that _conversation.

"You know what I mean, Madame," Christine said sounding the strongest she had all morning. "Please talk to me."

"Very well," Madame Giry said with a sigh, she returned to her chair, "But I have already told you all I know my dear, he is gone. The opera house is deserted, believe me I even went back myself. He is not there. I don't even know if he is still alive. Erik is a mystery to all who have ever known him, I do not think anyone will ever completely understand him, but there is one thing I do know. He can always make himself disappear. I don't think he would ever come back to Paris"

"But he has come back, Madame, why else would he…he must still…do you think he?"

"Christine no! I will not allow this!" Madame Giry said firmly "If it was Erik who left you the rose, and I very much doubt that it was, it will be to torment you my child! He is not the angel you still believe him to be, I do not deny that he loved you, but he also has a dark soul, it would take much to redeem him, more than anyone can give."

"What if he just needs to be loved, Madame? Isn't that all anyone needs?" Christine replied innocently, eyes lowered.

"I do not mean to seem cruel my dear, especially after everything you have been through, but I think any chance of Erik being redeemed left with you and le Vicomte six months ago. He has been denied love so many times, I doubt he even understands what real love is. Please leave memories where they belong. Life cannot be spent in regret," She tried to give Christine a reassuring look, but the young girls eyes seemed suddenly empty. "You should rest my dear, come I'll show you to Meg's room"

"Meg, oh Madame, when does she return? I miss her terribly! I've been so caught up in myself, I didn't think to write, I can't wait to see her"

"She is not going to come back to Paris my dear, she intends to stay in Rouen a while longer, she has been given a job at a local theatre, she seems happy there and I do not want to unsettle her, we shall write to her when you have rested if you like, I know she missed you deeply. Come now, there will be some night gowns in there, Meg left some clothes behind, you cannot stay in that wedding dress! And you need to rest."

Christine could only nod; she followed Madame Giry down the small corridor to Meg's old room. The Giry's had moved to the small apartment after the opera fire, something Christine felt guilty about, especially when she'd been residing in the de Chagny mansion. The room was very small with a small bed, a vanity and a small desk. Christine pulled on a night gown and tied a plane robe around herself. She sat down at the desk and began to write all the words that flooded her conscience.

_Dear Raoul, _

_I know my words will be of no comfort to you at this moment,__ but I need tell you the reasons why. Firstly, please don't believe that I did not love you, you are my dearest friend, Raoul, and I will always care for you. My intention was never to leave in such a way, because I did not intend to leave at all. But things changed, we saw each other so rarely and I began to feel trapped in so many ways. You seemed to free me from one life and trap me in another; it's not your fault because it's what you thought I wanted. It's what I thought I wanted, but I suppose we were both wrong. _

_I need to try and regain control of my own life, for so long it has been controlled by others. I could not condemn you to a life with someone who is only half alive; it would have killed us both. You deserve to be loved completely and utterly, something I could not seem to do. I do not deserve your forgiveness, Raoul, but I hope you can try to understand. I will always care for you Mon ami, and I hope you find the happiness you deserve. _

_Christine_

For the first time that day Christine did not cry, she _could_ not cry, her eyes seemed to have dried out. Instead she sank into the small bed and allowed her delicate body the rest it craved. She closed her eyes and hoped dreams of her angel would come and claim her.

XXXXX

Erik was in a dark mood. Darker than the bells of midnight. _Her wedding night_ he growled to himself over and over, his jaw tightening. The wedding day was one thing, but the wedding night, that was something he could not handle. If he saw that boy again he would have a rope around his neck, and this time, the job would be done properly. _I would take great satisfaction in hearing his pathetic neck snap_. He berated himself inwardly for leaving the damned rose, _what was it I hoped to achieve? _His mind screamed, _and now they will both be laughing at the pitiful opera ghost, well, damn them both to hell! _

He had not moved from his chair for most of the evening, only to yell at his butler Marcus to bring him another bottle of brandy, _destiny lies at the bottom of the bottle,_ he sniggered to himself. Marcus was the only member of Erik's small company of staff allowed into his rooms, which took up the houses east wing second floor. Some of the other staff were intrigued about what was contained in their master's quarters, but they never acted upon the urge to look, they did not dare.

It was a large house for just one reclusive man, Marcus often thought. The master rarely left his rooms in the day, and although there were servants he rarely requested much from them. But the house was always clean. He had never specified how often duty's were to be undertaken, but they were done daily regardless. Marcus doubted whether the master would even notice if they were all to leave. The staff had collectively decided that they would take pride in the appearance of the lovely house, even if its owner did not. Most of the staff lived for the rare visits of the master's friend Monsieur Khan and his servant Darius; it was nice to have kind people to serve.

Marcus knew that his master was not a simple man. He was dark in every sense of the word, from his moods, to his wit and his clothing. Everything was black accept for the white mask that covered half of his face._ Much like the moon shining out against the blackness of the night sky, _Marcus thought to himself as he left his masters room, another empty bottle in his hands. One day, when he was sure his master was out, he had entered the study. A room off limits to even him. He had lost his breath when he saw the depths of this mans boundless imagination, beautiful buildings covered the walls, each one devastatingly unique, sheets and sheets of music lay over the desk and floor, _so this is what he does all day!_ Marcus had thought to himself.

In the corner of the room was a large picture, it was covered, almost entirely, with a large piece of fabric. Marcus walked over to it and gingerly lifted the cloth up, staring back at him were the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen, deep, soft and full of emotion. The beautiful woman had long brown hair that fell in perfect curls and she was wearing a wedding dress, she was standing in some sort of boat and looking back. _What a sad scene, _he thought to himself, _he must have loved her! A_nd from that moment, Marcus had a new understanding for his master. He was clearly a brilliant man with a tragic past, _he could probably have ruled France with that mind. _He knew his master was not an evil man. But he did not dare think about what the consequences would be if his master found out that he had entered the study, or worse, seen the picture.

Marcus was a simple man, his childhood had a been a happy one, spent growing up in the poor parts of Paris. His parent's were elderly and since they were unable to work, the money he received from this job was crucial. Marcus could not afford to lose this job. But there was another reason for him to want to stay at this particular house; he had fallen for one of the house maids, Nicole. She was perfection to him, and he could not imagine life without her, maybe that was why he had felt some sort of remorse for his masters apparent despair, at first it would have seemed impossible to imagine the masked man caring for anyone. But now, he saw it there every time he looked into his masters eyes, and got severely berated for staring! The same feelings had shone from the eyes of the girl in the picture, confusion, passion and love. Marcus wondered what had happened to drive these two apart. Aside from the masters vile temper. M_aybe sometimes love just isn't enough,_ he thought as he made his way to find Nicole.

XXXXX

Christine had been with Madame Giry for the best part of a week, it had been good to spend time with the only motherly figure she had ever known. She had begun to see things more clearly, she knew now had made the right choice, she could not have married Raoul. But just as she was beginning to feel better, guilt would creep up and stab her.

Visions of Raoul standing at the alter, utterly humiliated plagued her mind. She only wished things hadn't gone so far. But she knew one of the reasons she had stayed in the safety of the de Chagny mansion for so long. Bertrand. The thought of him sickened her to her core, the things he had said, the way he salivated whenever he looked at her and the way he had grabbed her like she belonged to him. _I will never belong to him_ she thought as she sat at the vanity _I will only ever belong to one man. _

The day when Bertrand had spoken his words of poison to her she had cried, and wished so madly that Erik had been there, Bertrand and Erik, face to face. She knew what the outcome would be. Especially if Erik knew what Bertrand had insinuated. Erik still scared her, especially the feelings he was capable of stirring within her and the red mist of rage that often clouded his judgement, but she knew he would never harm her. And she was beginning to understand just how deep some feelings could go.

Madame Giry had arranged for Christine to visit Meg in Rouen, she believed a change of scenery and a friendly face would do the girl the world of good. Christine had so far refused to leave the safety of the apartment and has spent most of the week either asleep or gazing out of the window. She had cried non stop for the first few days, but now, she simply sat, dreaming both when she was asleep and when she was awake. No way for a young girl to spend her days. So Madame Giry had decided it was time to be firm, Christine needed to live again, and if all went well in Rouen she could even get a job at the theatre with Meg. Whatever happened, Christine needed to rejoin the real world before she became lost in her own dreams, Madame Giry had decided. Christine would leave for Rouen in two days.

XXXXX

"It's most peculiar, Erik," Said Nadir, receiving a quizzical look from his cloaked friend "I thought that Bertrand would be trying to worm his way into every brothel in and around Paris, but he's not" Erik raised an eyebrow "he seems to be only interested in one, Fairmont House. He has been there many times, especially this week. I'm beginning to wonder whether he is trying to become some sort of sordid patron for the place, the Madam, Agatha Farnsworth is a most formidable woman, not a maternal bone in her body. Driven by gluttony and greed. Much like our dear monsieur Bertrand."

"Darius will be in good company then." Said Erik with a smirk "he needs to go in there and act like a young noble, someone who can have his pick of the women, he needs to convince this Madame Farnsworth, that he is an arrogant and spoiled and cares only for money and flesh. The sooner he goes in and finds out that nothing is going on, the sooner this goose chase can be at an end. Then I can get back to wasting away with the rest of my pathetic life. Do you think he can do that, Daroga?" They had met in between Paris and Erik's residence, and were sat on a small hill before the sunset. Erik took a moment to reel in the magnificent transition day made into night.

"I hope so, my boy" replied Nadir "but he is not like that by nature, he wouldn't know how to be arrogant if he tried! Really, this situation would be so much easier if you could…"

"Yes, a perfectly good idea, Daroga, how many men do you know that wear a white mask! Sometimes I wonder why on earth the shah made _you_ the head of his police! It will have to be Darius, besides, maybe it will do the young fellow some good, it might make him a man. Anyway, Nadir, arrogance is a trait _I _do not really associate with myself" despite his apparent anger Nadir knew Erik was teasing him.

"No, of course not my boy, ah well, I should get back and tell Darius the good news! When will you send the money?"

"I shall have that useless butler of mine deliver it tomorrow; I don't think it is wise for me to return to Paris, for many reasons" Nadir got to his feet and patted his friend on the shoulder, which seemed to be made of stone.

"Very well my boy, I'll see you in three days, hopefully we'll find out what Bertrand is up to once and for all!" Erik gave a curt nod.

"Three days, Nadir."

Nadir mounted his horse and began the ride back to the city, leaving Erik to sit alone on the small heath. Darkness had taken over and it was now night. Erik wasn't sure about this plan of Nadir's, in truth, he didn't even know why he was getting involved, he did not care for aristocracy (accept for their money, which he was still receiving daily) and he did not care for the women that resided in Fairmont House. None of it really mattered to him. He was only involved to help his old and only friend. But there was something, a small feeling that told him he needed to be involved, a feeling he could not shake. There was a reason for his presence in all this. He just couldn't work out what it was. _Three days _he said to himself _I'll know in three days. _

XXXXX


	6. All Roads Lead Here

Chapter Six: All Roads Lead Here.

Christine sat staring out of the window, down at the busy Paris Streets; this had been her escape for the last few days, she would let her mind wonder to the lives of the strangers wandering below, she would construct identities for them all. Where they had grown up, what their destination was and who they loved. She wished sincerely that she could swap with some of them, even just for a day, to avoid the constant ache in her soul.

Her train to Rouen left in four hours. She was not happy about being packed off to Rouen, she wanted to see Meg, and she knew Madame Giry only had her best interests at heart, but decisions were being made for her, again. A rasp at the door yanked her away from her musings, and she walked over to it hesitantly. She was not expecting Madame Giry to be home for another hour and people rarely called in. She opened the door timidly to see the identity of the mystery caller. Philippe de Chagny stared back at her.

"I thought I'd find you here," he began smugly "don't worry, mademoiselle, I am alone, I would not want Raoul to know I was here, shall we?" He motioned to the inside of the appartment. Christine was staring at him dumbly, she had expected him to yell but he seemed oddly calm. He walked past and cast a disapproving eye over the humble dwelling.

"I am here for two reasons, firstly, to thank you, for not marrying my brother. I wish you'd chosen a more private way to do it; runaway brides are such a cliché. But nonetheless I'm glad the whole charade is over!" Christine was still staring, Philippe continued "And secondly, to give you this," he took an envelope out of his inside pocket. "It was nothing personal, but I'm glad you saw sense. Now, I want you to be as far from Paris, and my brother, as possible, before he gets some ridiculous idea about begging you to come back. He likes to play the knight in shining armour. But you would know all about that, wouldn't you." Christine felt her throat swell.

He threw the envelope onto a chair, turned on his heel, and walked to the door, "This place is more to your standard Miss Daae, remember that and you will have a content life. Don't go getting any more delusions of grandeur! Find a simple man, and live a simple life. I think you will be happy that way. Good day, I hope we do not meet again." with that he left and slammed the door behind him. Christine was frozen to the spot, staring at the door in utter disbelief. Had that really just happened?

She walked to the chair and picked up the envelope, she opened it and found it to be full of money. Her mouth fell open like a gawping fish. She could not accept this! It was an insult to what she and Raoul had meant to each other, it was wrong in so many ways. But as she began to think about the situation rationally, she realised she had very little choice. Philippe had given her a lifeline, she was leaving the only life she'd ever known to begin again in a new place, and although Madame Giry had given her what she could, she realised it wasn't enough. She knew she had little choice but to accept Philippe's offer. She couldn't get by on looks alone, and she did not have a job to go to in Rouen.

It seemed Bertrand had been right, the world was a scary place for an orphan. She was alone this time, there was no Raoul or Erik waiting in the wings to save her. She was alone, the thought both scared and exited her. She walked to her room to pack the rest of her very few belongings. She needed to be strong, now more than ever.

She wondered what Erik was doing at this moment, and where he was. But then shook the thoughts from her mind, it was time to move on. She was not ever going to see him again, he was now nothing but a memory to her.

Christine wiped the tears from her eyes.

XXXXX

"Now, let's go through this _again," _Erik grumbled, his last grain of patience slipping away rapidly. "You are the son of Count Dumont, a result of a scandalous affair he had with a member of his staff, your mother is of Persian decent, the Count gives you no affection, and for many years denied your existence, and all he gives you is a _sizable_ allowance. You are the black sheep of your family, you resent your fathers love for your elder siblings, and, because of this, you are interested in investing some of _his _money in Fairmont house!" Erik let a deep breath escape and let his shoulders relax, _that blasted boy better understand this time or I will not be responsible for my actions!_

"But, Erik, sir, who is this Count Dumont? Won't she think it's strange that I'm claiming to be the son of a man who doesn't even exist?" Darius had never been a good liar, his mother had always told him to tell the truth, she would be ashamed of she knew what he was about to do. But at this moment, he did not know whose wrath would be the more formidable, his mother, or his masters masked friend.

"It's a fair question Erik." Said Nadir, trying desperately to keep the situation as calm as possible. Erik seemed to have even less patience than usual at the moment.

"Oh, he exists, or shall we say, _did _exist, it's a real family name. There will be no awkward questions, I assure you," The stone-coldness in the masked man's tone made Darius' blood feel like ice. "But if there is anything asked that you are unsure of, might I suggest you embellish somewhat. Claim you find your past to terrible to deal with, claim that the memories haunt your every waking moment…" Erik seemed to lose his trail of thought but regained his composure quickly, "Tell them whatever you want! Anything _accept_ the truth, can you handle that?" Erik was now inches away from the boy's face.

"I-err…well," Darius began to stutter, nerves getting the better of him, _what is it about this man that makes me feel like a mouse! It's as if his eyes can see into my soul! _He thought to himself. "Yes." He finally managed to choke out "Yes, I can handle it, and I'll find out what that Bertrand is up to!"

"That's my boy!" said Nadir patting Darius on the back. Erik seemed to calm somewhat, the intense frown he had been carrying eased.

"Remember, you won't have to do anything you don't want to, you are giving the impression that your interest in the business aspect of things. But should the mood take you, feel free to _indulge, _I suppose it would be cruel to ask a boy of your age not to" Erik gave the boy a wicked grin, Darius blushed. "You will go in tomorrow night, and then report back to Nadir and I, we need to know how the land lies. I am involved now and I do not like to fail! We must be cautious, don't go wading in making demands. And watch your step with this Bertrand. You need to act as though you are superior to all who reside in that house of sin, you must pretend to be arrogance and confidence personified,"

Erik took a step back and eyed the young boy in front of him. He was quite tall for his age, which Erik guessed to be about nineteen. He had an inquisitive face with a nose that was slightly too big, and round dark eyes. He reminded Erik of a puppy, who had been taken away from his mother to soon. _Maybe I should have handled this myself, we might as well be sending a lamb into a pit of hungry wolves! He'll be eaten alive in there! Oh, Daroga, why do you employ such an imbecile! _He thought wickedly.

But for once, Erik kept his opinion to himself. Putting the boy down would only make matters worse, and it was too late to change tactics. "Well, that's that then," Erik continued "not much more can be said tonight, Good luck." he then turned to Nadir and gave a nod. "Daroga, I shall see you tomorrow. I leave the rest of the preparations to you, I fear there is little else I can do here" before Nadir could respond he had disappeared. Nadir shook his head.

_Going back to that house to drink himself into a stupor!_ Thought Nadir, _Oh, Erik, why must you continually swap one vice for another. _Nadir knew though, deep down that every ounce of hashish, opium and alcohol Erik had consumed had been a substitute for a deeper need. Not just one of flesh, but one of real love and intimacy. If it came to it, he knew Erik would sacrifice a life of phsyical love, if it meant the soft companionship of his beloved girl. He had long ago feared Erik falling in love; he knew it would transcend normal emotion, he knew, even then, that if Erik ever fell in love it would be an all consuming obsession. Erik had loved only one person in his whole life, and Nadir knew he would not love again. Only one person would ever mean anything to him, _the new Viscomtess de Chagny, _thought Nadir wryly. _If only she had chosen differently, I see that boy die a little more each day. _

XXXXX

Christine had said her goodbyes to Madame Giry at the apartment, she needed her last journey through Paris to be a personal one. She had left a bit early, so she could take a detour past the opera house. even with its former glory burned away, it retained a sort of majesty. Christine felt herself well up, _this is where it all began; now it all ends. The real ending isn't quite so romantic. Fleeing on a train instead of a gondola, I'm still running though, will I ever stop being afraid? _

She did not know who she spoke the words to, but somehow it needed to be said. She picked up her small travelling case, and made her way in the direction of the train station. She had taken too long at the opera house and now found herself running short of time. She remembered a short cut that she and Meg had taken many times, when they had nearly been late for rehearsal. _It's still daylight, so it should be safe enough; _she thought to herself, _I don't really have much choice! _She hurried through the streets and began her decent down a narrow ally. The walls seemed to be closing in as she ran, but relief washed over her as she saw the small opening that lead back to the busy streets. She had made it.

Just as she was about to rejoin the light, a large hand grabbed a handful of chestnut curls and pulled her back into the dark.

Christine screamed.

XXXXX

Christine awoke briefly what seemed like an eternity later, her whole body ached from the punches from her attacker. Her travelling case was open and the few belongings she had been carrying were scattered to the wind. Money and train tickets gone. She sobbed into the pavement but its cold surface could offer no comfort. Christine could only manage one word before again slipping into unconsciousness, _Erik... _

_She was dreaming now, she was sure, the sun was shining and warming her soft face, the gentle waves of a calm sea stroked her ankles. T__he sweet smell of sea air hypnotised her, and she heard the distant sound of a young boy's laughter, when she opened her eyes though, she was not by the sea. She was on stage back at the opera house, singing for absolution, singing for him in a room of glistening jewels. She finished her song and the crowd stood up to cheer, "Brava" was all she could hear as roses fell at her feet, then something else. "Please wake up" a voice seemed to echo in the distance. As the applause calmed, the voice grew louder "Your to young and beautiful to just die here, who are you? Please wake up!"_

Christine opened her brown eyes for a few fleeting seconds, and saw a kind face with golden hair holding her head and gently shaking her body "You're awake! Please try to stand, I need to get you out of the streets" said the voice. But Christine could not stand, instead her head fell back, limp and lifeless.

With the help of a hansom, Nicolette had managed to get the mysterious dark haired girl back to the big house. She put her in a room close to her own and tended to her wounds the best she could. It seemed this girl had a lucky escape, whoever had attacked her had been only interested in money, she did not seem too badly hurt, _shock must have caused her to pass out, _thought Nicolette, nothing a few days of rest couldn't fix.

Nicolette wondered who this girl was, she had clearly been going somewhere if the suitcase and scattered belongings were anything to go by, and she wore no wedding ring, yet there was something familiar and tragic about this girls face, even in slumber. Something that needed to be rescued. _Don't we all need to be rescued_ thought Nicolette. She guessed this girl had been escaping something or someone, she felt angry for the girl that she had come so close only have it ripped away, but also jealous that she had been given the freedom to choose in the first place.

"It seems we're both trying to escape, your attempts are as successful as mine, I'm trapped too." Nicolette whispered to the sleeping form. She studied the girl for a while; even in sleep she was beautiful, weak and strong in one strange combination. _Just like the petals of a white rose, _Nicolette thought to herself. "Please wake up, white rose, before she returns and finds you here," she whispered "Fairmont house is no place for you!"

XXXXX

Agatha Farnsworth made her way back to her study; she was not in a pleasant mood. She had just been dealing with another stupid and ignorant young girl who was unable to see the bigger picture. "Why can't they see I do things for their benefit? We need the money of that scrupulous toad! And he has insisted that the girl he wants is to be innocent and pure! Ha, what does he think this is! A nunnery! What on earth are we going to do, without his money we'll all be on the streets!" she was still muttering to herself as she fumbled with the door to her office.

"Luckily for you, Agatha, I am in a forgiving mood. So I'll ignore the toad comment!" Bertrand said staring at her from across the room.

"What do you want now?" She huffed, "I've told you, I'll find you a girl, but it does not help that you linger around the place like a bad smell!" Agatha knew she should fear this man, and part of her did ,but the ability to show weakness or emotion of any kind had deserted her long ago. All she knew now was survival, she knew Bertrand and she were similar creatures; the scary thing now was that she needed him to ensure the upkeep of Fairmont house. And Agatha Farnsworth did not enjoy being indebted to anyone.

"Forget the issue of the girl for the moment," Bertrand began with a twitch of his moustache, "I am still on my search for the runaway diva, its most peculiar, she seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth. But when I do find her, she'll need a place to stay, so I'll entrust her to your excellent care for a few days. She'll see then that living with me is in her best interests."

"If it's this diva you are after then why are you here investing money in my girls?" Agatha interrogated.

"The answer is simple, dear Agatha. When I find Miss Daae she will live with me as my mistress, I need the purity of her touch. But a man also has _other _needs, and as you can imagine, I need variety in my life. Also your girls have first hand information about the wealthy gentlemen in Paris. It's always handy to have the bargaining tool of blackmail on your side," Agatha was looking at him in disbelief. "The only reason I tell you all of this, is because I know that you are in no position to tell anyone, the cruel truth is you need me, just as much as I need you, and it delights me to know how much it sickens you!"

"Just tell me one thing," Agatha began, "what is it about this Daae girl? A man with your influence could surly have his pick, yet you seem obsessed with finding her."

"I'll tell you a story, Madame," Bertrand began coolly "I had a content childhood, my family were happy and to many it seemed that my parents had the perfect marriage, my mother was beautiful, there was delicateness to her nature, one that my brother inherited. He seemed to get the good bits of them both. My mothers beauty and innocence and my fathers nobility." He paused, and then at length, he spoke again.

"But my father was not noble. He had vices that he liked to keep hidden from the world. Like many men, he indulged in the pleasures of the women of the night. And I saw what happened to my mother when she found out. Her dreams were broken, like chards of shattered glass. All of that purity gone forever, the grief killed her; oh, they say it was a virus. But I knew the truth. She turned into a woman much like you, one who no longer believes in love, void of all emotion. I respect that in you, it ensures survival. But I have never known a woman to possess both innocence and darkness, a complete paradox of human emotion. But I see it in Christine Daae. I don't know how, but she seems to have the heart of a virgin and the soul of a lioness, and I want her!" Bertrand was now red in the face, his hidden lip twitching unconsciously. Agatha was staring in shock. She was beginning to regret getting involved with this man, but there was a small piece of her that enjoyed the intensity of him. He was clearly ruthless and someone she needed on her side.

"I am sorry about your mother's death," she was trying to sound sincere, but her tone still retained its cold edge. "I shall select my best girls for you; if you like, you can have exclusive rights to your favourites " Bertrand gave her a sly smile.

"We seem to understand each other, Madame, I will return in the morning to meet the lovely creatures, now I must return home, to see if there is any news of my little diva." He turned to leave.

"One last question monsieur Bertrand," he turned again to face her. "Why do you call her a diva?"

"Because my inquisitive friend, she was once the star of the Paris Opera, she has a voice constructed by angels."

"I'm intrigued monsieur; I hope to meet this girl one day, just to see if she lives up to your unearthly opinion!"

XXXXX

Nicolette felt like she was walking on the edge of a cliff. She was only just beginning to think about the implications of her spontaneous actions. All she had thought about was getting the girl off the harsh streets of Paris.She knew now that her judgements had been stupid. Madame Farnsworth would not like this strange girl being in the house, and she would be doing her rounds anytime now.

She would be most angry that Nicolette was still in her day clothes and not ready for her male guest. Nicolette was strong, she could cope with the cruel realities of life, Madame Farnsworth had been sure of that. When she had come to Fairmont, almost five years ago, she had been weak and Madame Farnsworth had ground her down to the point where she had almost ended her own life, she had been denied food so her defences were lowered, and she had been bullied both emotionally and physically. Only when Madame Farnsworth was satisfied she could endure survival did she let Nicolette live again.

Nicolette knew that she was a strong person because of the degradation she had endured. She knew what lay in store for this fragile creature. And her heart wanted to break for the girl. The fact that she was beautiful made it worse. Nicolette had always been attractive, men loved her confidence and full figure, but she was not a natural beauty. She knew Madame Farnsworth would push this small girl to her limit. And even though they had not yet had a conversation, she was unsure of how well this girl would cope. She realised that in bringing her here she had condemned her to a fate worse than death.

Nicolette was bathing the forehead of the young stranger with a damp cloth, trying desperately to rouse her from her seemingly never ending slumber, when she head the door handle click and the sound of heels against the hard mahogany floor.

"There are several things that are wrong with this situation, Nicolette, perhaps you would like to enlighten me." Madame Farnsworth said sternly.

"Umm - this isn't my room," replied Nicolette sheepishly.

"Correct, and number two?"

"I'm not ready yet,"

"Also correct, and number three?" Madame Farnsworth was staring at the bed.

"She doesn't live here." Nicolette lowered her eyes; she knew what was coming.

"You are very observant, young lady, now if you'll explain what this young tramp is doing in one of my bedrooms!"

"I found her, and I know the rules, Madame, and how you feel about strays, but she was completely alone and unconscious on the streets of Paris. I couldn't just leave her there! There is no wedding ring, no identification, I didn't know what else to do! And we have so many spare rooms, surely one night is ok? I can make her leave first thing in the morning…"

"A pretty little thing isn't she," Madame Farnsworth interrupted. "And nowhere to go, you say! She might make a special addition to our little family, eh, Nicolette!" This was exactly what Nicolette had feared.

"Surely we should wait until she wakes up before we seal her fate; she could have family out looking for her!" Nicolette tried to protest. Neither of them noticed the figure stirring in the bed behind them.

"Where were this family when she was lying in the street, nobody can care that much for the poor little wretch, no, it is decided You found her, you saved her life, she is indebted to you, to _me_. And I like to make sure all debts are collected. This will make our current situation much more comfortable, we cannot afford to be compassionate, do you want to see us all out on the streets?" Nicolette looked at the floor, ."No, I didn't think so! It seems God has sent us a chestnut haired saviour! She is exactly the kind of girl Bertrand will like; I think he will be very interested in…"

"No…please, please no!" a weak voice called from the bed causing both women to turn around. "Where- am- I?"

"Hello, my name is Nicolette, I found you, you were attacked in the ally I brought you here to rest a while," Christine remembered the blonde locks and the gentle voice calling to her, the blonde girl was kneeling by her bed.

"You are at Fairmont house, my child," The older woman began, Christine had once overheard Philippe mention this place, her heart plummeted. "One of my girls found you; we have saved your life. In return you will stay here and contribute to the running of the place" the older woman's tone was harsh as the first winter frost.

"C-contribute?" Christine spluttered, wishing she could wake from this nightmare. The older woman gave a smirk.

"Yes, I think you will be a great asset to our small family. What is your name child?"

"Christine, Madame, Christine Daae. Please, I have a guardian who will be very worried! I'm an orphan you see and she is the only one I have…oh please let me go! He cannot no I'm here"

"Christine Daae!" Madame Farnsworth repeated in shock. "Ha! Oh, the Lord has made me a lucky lady tonight! I'm afraid I cannot let you go anywhere, my sweet flower, he will pay dearly to have you back! You will save this place and all who reside here." Christine was sobbing, she wanted to get out of the bed and run from the room but her leg was too sore, she was not even sure she could move it.

"Please, Madame…I was never his to try and take in the first place! Please, I'll do anything…please do not give me to him!" tears swam freely down her porcelain cheeks "please!" she was looking at Nicolette now, begging her with her eyes. And though Nicolette felt for the girl and guilt was eating away at her, she could only look back helplessly. If she stood up to Madame Farnsworth now she would loose everything, so she remained silent.

"I am sorry, my flower, but I'm afraid I have no choice, I have to think of my girls, you are a small sacrifice for the bigger picture. Don't worry, I shall not give you to him yet, I want to enjoy the satisfaction of having a hold over him first! You will stay here for a few days, come now, Nicolette, lets leave miss Daae to rest, I'm sure she has much to think about." Nicolette rose from the floor and tried to give Christine a warm look. But the young brunette pulled her eyes away and carried on sobbing. Nicolette had never seen such genuine fear before; as she left the room she resolved to herself that she would find a way to help this girl.

"I'm afraid I shall have to lock you in, not that you'll get that far anyway, but I can't take the risk, pleasant dreams, Miss Daae." The door slammed and Christine wept harder, she had never before met such a cold woman. _How can this be happening! Are you punishing me, God? For the pain I have caused others, please I did not intend for any of this to happen! What am I going to do now...I cannot go to Bertrand, I would sooner die! Oh, Erik…why was I ever afraid of you? I wish I could turn back the fickle hands of time. So I could finally tell you that I love you. But it's too late now, it's hopeless..._

XXXXX

Agatha Farnsworth sat in her study, she could not believe fate had intervened and dropped the golden prize in her lap, this was indeed a night to remember! Suddenly there was a knock at her door. "Enter!" she shouted irritably. Who would be calling at this hour?

Nicolette peered her head around the door sheepishly, "Excuse the intrusion, Madame, but there is a gentleman to see you. He asked for you by name, he looks rather wealthy" Agatha raised a curious eyebrow, "Very well, I'll see him, what's his name?"

"He says he's the son of Count Dumont, he said he's come to make you an offer you can't refuse." Agatha laughed. "Tonight has been full of surprises, I wonder what else fate has in store for us my girl! Show this mystery man in!"

XXXXX

Outside Fairmont house a dark rider sat on top of his black stallion, watching. It had taken a lot for Erik to return to Paris, but he needed to make sure Darius had actually entered the house. He would not make the mistake of riding anywhere near the de Chagny mansion; they would most likely be away on honeymoon anyway. The very thought made his hands grasp at the reins harder. He could actually taste the hate he had for that boy, like a bitter poison.

The house was dimly lit, each window carrying a small flicker of candlelight. Erik could imagine what was happening in those rooms. He was instantly drawn to the only room of the house that seemed to be shrouded in darkness. Erik couldn't help but wonder about the occupant of that one dark, lonely room.

_Don't let me down, Darius! _he thought to himself as he turned the horse to leave. He kicked at the stirrups hard and charged off into the dark, like a black knight.

XXXXX


	7. Help Me Take Flight

Chapter 7: Help Me Take Flight.

It had not been a dream. Christine awoke to the sixth chime of the clock in her room. The house was silent now, all night she had heard footsteps and muffled voices, vivacious laughter echoed down the halls. But now she heard nothing accept the continuous thundering of her nervous heart. How had she ended up here? This is not the way it was supposed to be! _Am I being punished? I never meant to hurt either of them! Anybody would struggle with the choices I've had to face. _

Her mind tormented her with agony of unanswered questions. She knew now where she longed to be, months ago it would have been so easy, if only she had realised then. If only she had been strong enough to stay. But it seemed fate had other plans for her now, _not everyone can have a happy ever after, _Christine wept into the pillow, _I had a chance at one and I did not take it!_ She realised, that her life was, once again, out of her own hands. This woman had decided a new fate for her. _Who does she think she is! _Christine raged, _how can she decide my entire future with the snap of her fingers! I was leaving Paris to take control of my destiny, and now it seems to be more lost than ever! There has to be a way out of this, I will not be sent to be with that vile specimen of a man! _Christine made a silent pact to escape this living nightmare, she knew there had to be a way out: she just didn't know where.

XXXXX

It was almost noon by the time Darius reached Erik's large house, he felt as though his heart was in his throat. The birds were singing merrily in the trees and he envied their indifference to the strains of human life. Erik would want to know everything, and Darius knew his biggest test yet would be to lie to the masked man. His mind wandered back to his encounter the previous evening.

He had arrived at Fairmont house about midnight; Erik had insisted that he escort the boy to ensure that he didn't loose his nerve. Darius was learning quickly that his master's friend did not accept failure, it was not an option. Entering the house had proved harder than he had ever anticipated. A large, burly man had been full of questions. Darius had contemplated running back to his horse, and abandoning this whole charade, but he knew the fury of Erik would be worse than anything this man could do to him.

Having convinced the man known only as _Sidney,_ that he was of noble background and had plenty money to lavish upon the establishment, he was taken inside and introduced to a blonde girl named Nicolette. The first thing that he noticed about the house was the stagnant smell of perfume. It clung to the air like a rose scented fog. Darius was sure he would smell like a woman when he left the house.

The house was very dark, the walls were decorated in a deep purple and gold candles lined the halls, it seemed to Darius that it would always be night here, even on the clearest summer day. Something about it reminded him of Erik's house, although this place did not have the same majestic mystery that the house on the hill did. Nicolette seemed nice, not what he had prepared himself for. She was not the scarlet woman he had imagined, she was just like a normal girl. She was very attractive but he could tell instantly that she wore a lot of makeup, whether this was through choice he could not be sure, but it occurred to him everyone in this house must be partaking in a kind of erotic masquerade. She must have been a few years older than him because she had a full, curvy figure. Not like the girls he had seen in his youth. She had agreed to take him to meet the Madam, Agatha Farnsworth, but had warned him she did not often take to well to intruders.

"I hear you have come to make me an offer," Agatha had demanded when Darius entered the room, "I'm all ears dear boy! Please sit." Darius sat down at the vacant chair across from her. _How on earth am I going to pull this off!_ He thought to himself.

"My name is Darius Dumont, son of the late Count Dumont," Darius had to admit that he liked the way that sounded. "My family is from English heritage."

"But you are clearly not, if you don't mind my saying so." Agatha interrupted.

"Indeed not, I will not lie to you, Madame, I can see there is no fooling you," his flattery earned him a rare smile from Agatha, "I am, shall we say, the result of a mistake my father made with a member of his staff, he was not keen on me and often substituted love for money. Something I am glad about now. Now, he's gone, and I am free to do with his money as I please." He gave her a wicked smirk,_ I really am starting to act like Erik! _He thought to himself. Agatha smiled back at him.

"And just what is it you have come here to offer me?" Agatha asked with a raised brow.

"I have lots of money, and nothing to spend it on, so it occurred to me that it might be a wise move to make an investment. And what would be a more credible investment to my dear father's memory, than to give it to you, I'm sure we can come to an arrangement that is beneficial to us both. I am prepared to be very generous, if you are." Darius felt sick, he did not like the person he was pretending to be, it went against his good nature.

"You have intrigued me, dear boy! And since you have shown me honesty, I shall show you the same courtesy," Darius tried his best to raise an arrogant eyebrow. "I have other interested parties in a sort of _patriotism_ in this place. And I cannot deny that both interests are needed, and if you lay your cards on the table now, I'll see what sort of arrangement we can come to, but I warn you now, I am nobody's fool. We make an arrangement and we stick to it!"

"Of course!" Darius began "Believe me; I have no interest in making you look a fool. This is just as important to me as it is to you, so here is what I propose. I will give you 50.000 francs now, this will secure me the company of some of your more desirable women, but then I want you to write to my Brother, the new Count Dumont, and tell him exactly what I have done with his precious father's money, then you shall receive another 50.000." Darius felt sick.

"Very well, my dear boy, it seems we have a deal. You'll find that I'm very good with words, your brother shall receive a most _detailed _letter!" Agatha let out a cackle.

"There's one more thing," Darius began suddenly, Agatha stopped laughing. "For an extra 10.000 francs I would very much like to know the name of this other benefactor!" Agatha seemed to study him for a moment with suspicion, but disguised it with a smirk.

"Inquisitive little boy, aren't you! His name is Edward Bertrand, but do not go seeking him out, my boy, I may seem like an ogre to someone as young as you, but it is my personal belief that he is the devil's representative on earth!" Darius could only try to disguise his smile, _If only you knew who I was working for! Then you would know the wrath of the devil! _He thought to himself dryly "Steer clear of him until I have explained our new situation, not that it should matter anyway, he seems to only have eyes for the Daae girl"

"Daae?" Darius said ruefully, more to himself than to Agatha. _It couldn't be!_

"Yes, Daae, some young upstart who was once an actress or something along those lines, all the same if you ask me…" She was still talking but Darius was not listening. _This changes everything! What on earth is she doing here! Do I tell Erik? _But he knew what would happen if he did, it would not be pleasant to experience. They would all be certain to witness the resurrection of a Phantom. No, he needed to try and talk to Christine first, he needed to be completely sure before he did anything. _Why hasn't she married the Vicomte? _There were too many questions. Darius knew that he needed answers.

"….so I'm in two minds whether to keep her here, or send her off with him. She could be a great asset to this place." Agatha finished. Darius had been subconsciously nodding along to her ramblings.

"I'm intrigued," Darius began confidently "I should very much like to meet this, mademoiselle Daae, perhaps you could present her to me now?"

"No, unfortunately she is still a snivelling little wretch tonight. She won't make a good first impression, come back tomorrow night, I intend to spend some quality time with Miss Daae tomorrow, and I'm sure she'll be in a much more sociable mood after that!"

"Very well, I look forward to it! I'm sure you can work your magic on her, Madame! I will be intrigued to see what all the fuss is about" Darius said whilst planting a kiss to Agatha's white knuckle. He bowed and left the room.

_I'll be back tomorrow, Christine, and somehow I'll get you out of there! _Darius suddenly felt a pang of nervous excitement, _maybe this time it'll be my turn to play the hero!_

XXXXX

Darius sat in the chair, watching as Erik paced back and forward. Those penetrating eyes never leaving his face and burning into his soul_. He must be seeing straight through these lies!_

"Now, your sure that's everything! I cannot help you unless I have _ALL_ of the information," Erik said in his usual forceful voice. "You haven't left anything out? The smallest thing could be important! Did she mention any girls Bertrand has an eye on? Did she mention why he is sniffing around at all?" Darius could feel his skin begin to prickle up into gooseflesh.

"No, Erik." He managed; he could not believe he was lying to this fierce man.

"See, Daroga! I told you this whole farce was a waste of time!" Erik yelled at his friend, who made a gesture of indifference with his hands.

"Maybe your right, Erik," began Nadir gently "but I still think we should carry on, just for a few more days...something might come up! I know that man is hiding something!"

"Damn you and your patience! Very well, send him back in," Erik turned his attention to Darius once again "I want you here again tomorrow morning! If you are not here by noon, I shall come looking for you myself!"

XXXXX

"Sidney!" Agatha called out rudely, the name echoed down the halls.

"Yes Ma'am?" replied the nervous response from a gruff, manly voice.

"I need you to do me a favour, my pet, find out all you can about my new friend, Darius Dumont. I need to know everything before I can trust him, and there is something that doesn't seem right about that boy" Sidney had his head peeking nervously into her office.

"In what way Ma'am? He seemed to have a lot of money!"

"Money does not make a person trustworthy, my boy! Quite the opposite in fact!"

"Where shall I start...?" Sidney replied but was soon cut off by Agatha's impatience.

"That's all! Oh, and tell Nicolette to wake Miss Daae. Its time I paid her a visit!"

XXXXX

Christine had been awake for what seemed like days, in truth it had only been a matter of hours. She could stand on her leg, although the pain was intense, she was sure it was only a sprain. She had made several laps of her room and was confident she would be mobile enough to make some kind of escape. She knew timing would be everything, there would be no room for hesitation and one thing was for sure, it would be easier to escape from here than from that devil Bertrand. She sank back onto the bed and allowed her leg to rest. Nervous anticipation bubbling in her veins. Then she heard the key turn in the lock.

"Hello, how are you feeling today?" Came the concerned voice of Nicolette, Christine could only stare, _how the hell do you think I'm feeling!_ She scorned inwardly. "I've brought you some fruit; I wasn't sure when last you'd eaten. But you'll have to be quick, she won't like me feeding you" Christine could not remember when she'd eaten last, in her current situation the need for nutrition had seemed trivial. But she could not deny her ravening hunger, and look the fruit gingerly from Nicolette who tried to give her a smile. Christine chose to ignore her. Good intentions or not, it was her fault she was in here.

"I want to help you…" Nicolette began suddenly "I - I'm so sorry for bringing you here! But I didn't know what else to do. I thought you were dying!" Christine looked up in surprise. "I will help you get out if here, she hasn't told him you are here yet, there is still time, please, just have a little hope." Christine had forgotten what it was to have hope. Such a simple thing, but so easily destroyed. Christine was like the last leaf clinging to the branch of an autumn tree, anticipating the fall. "You must believe me, I did not know she would go this far!"

"I know you didn't." Christine answered finally, in a low, controlled voice "But I'm here nonetheless! And I'm going to be given to a man who I despise with every fibre of my soul, like some kind of slave; he is going to take away from me what should be mine to give to whom I choose." She looked towards the window sadly "I know you mean well, but apologies won't get me out of here!"

"I've said I will try to help you - please give me time to think of something…" Christine turned and looked Nicolette in the eye for the first time, she was about to reply when stern footsteps entered the room.

"Good morning, ladies," came the strict voice of Agatha. "Nicolette, you were only supposed to wake Miss Daae not indulge in idol chat! Now leave us, we have things to _discuss_." Nicolette and Christine shared a sorrowful glance before Nicolette rose and left the room, head bowed. Christine noticed that Agatha was holding some sort of dress. Suddenly, Agatha threw the dress in Christine's direction. "Put this on, you might as well begin to look the part!" Christine felt a rising anger.

"And if I don't? Will you force me into it? Like you intend to force me to spend time with that vile, sickening man!" Agatha raised an eyebrow and began to walk slowly over to the bed.

"I shall tell monsieur Bertrand you send your regards! I was intending to keep you here for a while, but now you have made up my mind for me. I will send you to him tomorrow night. You ungrateful little wretch! We should have left you to die on the streets!"

"I WISH YOU HAD!" Christine yelled, no longer able to repress her anger. She suddenly felt a sharp pain collide with her face, like a bee sting, as Agatha slapped her delicate cheek.

"Lesson one. Never answer back to me. Now, put on the dress. I have a visitor for you tonight and you're in need of some make-up! Tonight should prepare you nicely for monsieur Bertrand" She hitched her skirt and pulled a small dagger out of her garter. Before Christine had time to react, Agatha had grabbed her small arm and made a clean cut on the top side, Christine winced in pain.

"You will receive one of those every time you disobey me! Remember that, I do not want my guest to be disappointed tonight." Christine felt her strong resolve crumble as she broke into sobs, cradling her cut arm. "Joyce will be here in half an hour to do your hair and make up, so you had better be dressed. Please stop it with the tears, my girl - it is not becoming of a young woman!"

XXXXX

Darius rode up to the house, his stomach knotted up with dread, he had managed to convince Erik to allow him to ride solo tonight, but he couldn't escape the feeling of being watched. Tracked like a dear in the wilderness. The importance of tonight was just beginning to sink in to his still juvenile soul. He had wanted to play the hero, so his Master and Erik would finally see him as a capable man, not just a boy. But the enormity of the situation was becoming clear, even if he succeeded his Masters plans would be destroyed, Bertrand would be aware someone was watching him, and it would all have been for nothing. But a choice had to be made, Christine's life was more important. He only wished he wasn't doing this alone.

Agatha met him in the foyer; she seemed in an odd mood, much darker than she had been the night before. She led him upstairs, and explained that although the girl may seem reluctant at first she was still his for the night. Darius was beginning to see just how ruthless this woman was.

She unlocked the door and he entered hesitantly. The room was dimly lit, like the rest of the house, and a sweet aroma of roses floated delicately on the air. The room was very lavishly decorated in deep purples and gold. He looked around in awe, until he saw a small, elegant form sitting in a chair looking at him with such fear that he felt like crying.

She was crying. "P-please monsieur…don't make me do this, I - I shouldn't be here, its all been a terrible mistake!" The pleading in those soft brown eyes made him ache. How could anyone want to hurt this girl?

"Its alright," He said softly, "I'm here to help, I know you, Christine, or rather, I know of you…we know some of the same people" she looked at him in complete disbelief.

"Monsieur…I - I don't understand, I've never seen you before in my…"

"My name is Darius, I am the manservant to Nadir Khan, I believe you met him once, he has been spying on Edward Bertrand for months, that is what brings me in here!" He was now kneeling by her side.

"Yes, Monsieur Khan! I remember him…it all makes sense now! His interest at Bertrand at the party, the way he spoke of him! I can't believe it…but how did you know I was here?"

"I heard her mention your name last night, that's why I asked for an audience with you! I knew I had to get you out, I knew it was you. I am the only one who knows you're here! I'm going to get you out of here tonight!" Darius thought it wise not to mention Erik's involvement; the poor girl seemed scared enough. He looked at her properly for the first time, and saw how beautiful she was, how vulnerable, she needed to be saved by someone, now more than ever.

"From what I can gather, your room is on the second floor, it's not too high, we should be able to get down. With the help of this!" He smiled and pulled a piece of rope out of his pocket, _I'm sure Erik won't miss it for one night! _He thought to himself. Christine smiled before throwing her arms around him. Darius felt himself blush inwardly.

XXXXX

As she stood on the balcony with her curious hero, Christine realised just how unplanned this rescue mission was. She had assumed Monsieur Khan would be somewhere, or at least be the brains of the operation. But it was becoming clear this inexperienced youth was the only saviour she was going to get. She smiled as she watched him, attempting to tie the thick rope around part of the balcony.

"Do you need some help with that?" she asked.

"No, no it-should-be-fine," he answered through exhausted gasps as the knot he had been trying so hard to tie sprang undone for the third time. "DAMN IT!" Darius shouted in frustration.

"SSSH! They could hear you!" Christine scolded "This is our only chance, if she catches us, that's it, I'll never be free again. We need to make this count" The seriousness of the situation finally beginning to sink into both of them "I can't stay here! I just can't! That woman is the devil..." Christine trailed off into private thought and subconsciously began to cradle her sore arm. Darius noticed the bandage around her wrist.

"What happened?" He asked with concern. The sound of his voice seemed to bring back to reality; she shook her head as if trying to rid herself of unwanted memory.

"Too much has happened to ever explain now, please, let's just hurry and get away from here!" Darius nodded in acquiesce, and began to tie the rope again. Christine was staring into the black abyss of night, craving to taste its freedom.

"There! I think I've got it - you go over first, and I'll hold the rope this end!"

XXXXX

Agatha was sat in her study, _I wonder how the boy is getting on! I haven't heard any screams yet, must be going better than I'd anticipated! Maybe I underestimated that boy! _She smirked and carried on writing her letter, _I've sent word to Bertrand that she is her; he will be most upset to find out that I've ruined her charming innocence. Maybe at last he'll see that nobody can intimidate Agatha Farnsworth - I will not be outsmarted! _Suddenly Sidney burst into her study out of breath and red faced.

"Ma'am, your ne-never go-ing to believe this!" He grunted in breathlessness, sweat trickling down his bald head.

"Never going to believe what? Whatever it is it had better be important. What have I told you about entering my study without knocking?"

"It's about Count Dumont ma'am" He stammered. Agatha's interest was sparked.

"Go on." She answered.

"He died 15 years ago ma'am! And he was never married! He didn't have children…There is a current Count Dumont, but apparently he disappeared years ago…whoever that boy is, he's not the son of a count!"

"MOVE!" Agatha shouted and they both made their way to the stairs.

XXXXX

Christine was over the balcony facing Darius, who was trying to remain brave. He knew he would be in for it when he got home, he hadn't even thought about what would happen to Christine after this. Where would she go? His only motivation had been to get her out. He had not given much consideration to the aftermath.

Christine was about to step from the balcony and shimmy down the rope, when the balcony doors flew open. Agatha and Sidney stood glaring back at them. Agatha wearing her trademark smirk and raised eyebrow, she almost looked like she was taking pleasure in the whole situation.

"Not trying to run away I hope, Miss Daae? Unless this is some kind of erotic game I am unfamiliar with?" Christine felt her last shred of hope flutter to the floor. "Now my dear girl next time you try and escape, or even worse - put your faith in a man. Make sure your hero is up to the job!"

Sidney grabbed Darius by the arms and held them so tightly that blood flow seemed to cease, Darius struggled at first but could not fight against the strength of this brute. Agatha yanked Christine over to the balcony, and let the young girl fall onto the stone floor. "I told you what would happen if you disobeyed me again!" she turned to Sidney "Take him to the cellar and lock the door; I'll deal with him later. First Miss Daae and I need to have a little chat." Sidney pulled Darius away.

The two escapees's caught one last glance of each other before Darius was wrenched into shadow. The only hope Darius felt echoed from Erik's last words to him. _If you are not here by noon, I shall come looking for you myself!_

XXXXX

AN: Hmm does that mean a certain reunion is coming up?


	8. Better The Devil You Know

Chapter Eight: Better the Devil You Know.

XXXXX

_Those pleading eyes, that both threaten, and adore..._

XXXXX

Christine could hear, and smell and see, but now all senses were blurred. After tonight she did not think she would feel again. Not like she had before. Now she was numb to emotion it occurred to her how ripe her feelings had been before, wanting the succulent summer fruit but being to afraid to bite. _I was a fool to believe…_she thought solemnly, _I've seen love from all sides and turned my back on it. Now when I need it most, it has truly deserted me. I will no longer hope for love, and I will never again trust a hope, its over. _Her thoughts were interrupted by the incessant pain in her arm. She moved the cloth and inspected the fresh gauge lay in perfect symmetry to the earlier one.

"One for every time you disobey me!" Agatha had sneered as she dragged the blade through Christine's pale flesh. The clash of deep red blood and her porcelain skin like the petals of a red rose falling upon snow. This time she had not cried, it had seemed too hopeless; she simply starred at Agatha with cold indifference, eyes like stone. There was nothing more this woman could do now, no more dreadful surprises. She had taken Christine's hope, freedom and belief in the goodness of the human soul. She would not shed tears in front of that woman. Only for the life she could have had. The life she had given up. Her body felt like an empty vessel, void of all emotion.

Her mind wandered to Darius, that dear boy who had risked everything to save her, now locked away somewhere like a prisoner. She did not know what fate would have in store for him in this place, but it would not be pleasant. She prayed that he would find a way to get out, he would not last long in this place, and Christine knew that even she had a better chance of surviving than he did. She hoped they would meet again one day, and she would be able to thank him for trying to free her. She knew now that her future had already been decided. Bertrand was probably on his way. All she could do now was wait, and spend her last hours of freedom alone in the dark. Her body may still be living, but she felt her soul die…

XXXXX

"He should be here by now, Daroga!" Erik roared "I will never send a boy to do a man's job ever again, The fool has probably fallen for the lusty charms of one of those whores, insolent little…" He was pacing so much Nadir was beginning to feel his brain swim.

"Will you calm down Erik! We don't know the details, let's not condemn the poor boy just yet, give him a bit longer. There's probably a good explanation." Erik stopped and looked at his friend, knowing the Daroga was right. He let out a large sigh.

"I said noon, Daroga, and it's almost dusk! Something is wrong here, very wrong!" He narrowed eyes and began to march towards the door. Nadir threw up his hands in a gesture of disbelief.

"Praise Allah! What now! Where are you going…we need to wait for the boy…"

"Get your cloak Daroga! We're going to Fairmont House!"

XXXXX

Christine stood looking into the large mirror, Joyce, who was one of the _retired _residents of the house ,pulled harshly at the ties of her dress. Each pull making Christine wince, the dress was not something she would ever normally wear, the corset went over the top and made her breasts look as though they were about to fall out. The gown was a deep red with black lace detail. Christine realised she looked like the intended bride of Satan. The girl who stared back wasn't the bright girl of the Paris Opera House; this girl was a stranger drained by life, the last shard of a decaying memory. _Agatha Farnsworth has done her job well_, Christine thought bitterly.

"Ah, don't you look lovely my girl," came the stern voice of Agatha "I'm almost proud of you! You're new life begins at midnight. Monsieur Bertrand is most exited about your presence here, he is coming to collect you himself," Christine starred at her with complete contempt, she finally knew what it was to hate; she actually wanted to kill this woman.

"What have you done with Darius?" She asked with controlled disgust.

"Oh yes, the young _Count._ He is being taken care of, no need to worry. He just needs to tell me exactly what he was doing here and who he really is, and I will stop Sydney having his _fun_," Christine felt a lump rising in her throat. _Another life ruined because of me! _She thought to herself. Joyce left the room leaving the two women alone.

"Why are you condemning me to this sinister fate? Do you feel no remorse for destroying lives?" Christine asked pleadingly, hoping to strike a chord with the evil woman standing before her. Agatha seemed to consider the young girls words for a few moments, but her firm resolve returned as soon as it seemed to leave.

"I learned long ago not to feel, emotions are a liability. You will learn, my dear girl, that is the only way to survive in this world, especially for a woman. You may not think it now, but I'm actually doing you a favour. Do not delude yourself with belief in happy endings, they simply don't exist." Agatha pursed her thin lips together and looked at Christine "You scrub up well my girl; you look like a woman now. I'll send one of the girls in to do your make-up, I'll be back in a couple of hours, when Bertrand gets here. Enjoy these last few moments of solitude." She paced out of the room and locked the door behind her. Christine felt hot tears begin to burn her face, _it really was over_.

XXXXX

Agatha's study was silent; the only noise was the scratch of her pen against the parchment. The clock abruptly chimed nine, making her jump. Bertrand would be there in two hours, and just the thought of his visit was making her uneasy. Something in Christine's eyes had touched her, only for a moment, but it had made her feel for the first time in years. For the very first time she had felt, maternal. Only for a second, but it had scared her. She needed that girl to be gone. Feeling was not an option.

She heard a sharp knock to the front door. Three even thuds, it made her jump again.

"SIDNEY!" She yelled, but received no answer. "SIDNEY! Where on earth is that useless lump now?" She left her study and went to the front door; she yanked it open sharply "Yes! What is it?" The face of a Persian man stared back at her, dressed impeccably in his native clothing.

"Good evening, Madame," He said politely. "My name is Nadir Khan, and I believe you have something of mine in your custody." She surveyed him for a moment. He was about forty and had a trustworthy face. And he appeared to be alone, which put her at ease.

"Ah yes, the boy!" She scorned, Nadir raised an eyebrow, _so Erik was right! Damn it. _He made the gesture of a polite nod to her.

"You had better come in, monsieur, it seems we have things to discuss." Nadir followed her down the hallway to her study, which was now bathed in darkness. Not how she had left it moments earlier. Agatha re-lit the lamps with an annoyed tut. Nadir shut the door behind him. The click of it shutting echoed into the darkness.

When the room returned to its bright state Agatha gasped at the sight of a man sitting at her desk. He has hair so black it would shame midnight, smoothed elegantly away from his face which on the uncovered side was quite handsome, but his skin was very pale. His full lips were turned up in an arrogant smirk. But all Agatha could stare at was the pure white mask that covered half of his face. Like a crescent moon shining out against the night sky. She had never felt terror so deep; it seemed to shake her soul. If Bertrand was a dark man, then this man was Hade's personified. He was reclining back in her chair, as if he were its owner, his elbows resting gracefully on the arms.

"Please have a seat, Madame." He commanded, motioning to the chair opposite, and she obeyed without question. She felt like a visitor in her own office.

"We have some things to discuss regarding your new houseguest." Agatha felt like a small child who had just woken from a nightmare. She had never been so afraid, but she could not let her weakness show.

"That boy tried to run off with one of my girls! I have every right to hold him here until I receive a satisfactory explanation. I will not be intimidated, monsieur, so you can remove that mask. It doesn't scare me!" Nadir grimaced inwardly, what on earth was she doing talking to Erik like that! Erik simply raised his chin and smiled.

"I would advise that you do not mention the mask again, not if you value your life." Erik's eyes were suddenly wild, Agatha did not seem to be breathing.

"The boy is my responsibility, Madame; I can assure you that he will receive a punishment fit for his crime. Why don't you bring him in and we'll all get to the bottom of this." Nadir said trying to diffuse the situation. Agatha got up from her chair abruptly.

"I will not have this! The girl he tried to run off with is of great importance to this place, that damned boy of yours nearly cost me everything!"

"_Everything?_" Erik questioned as he rose swiftly from the chair, Agatha gasped to him at his full height, it made him seem even more powerful.

"Yes, she is to be sold to an important client of mine, that boy of yours nearly cost me dearly."

"Sold?" echoed the dark man "Like an animal?"

"Oh, don't judge me, monsieur, life is harsh. Sometimes sacrifices need to be made." She flinched when Erik's sharp eyes met her own. If a single look could kill, she knew she would be writhing on the floor in agony at this moment.

"Make many _sacrifices _do you?" Erik regarded her with an ominous stare, he began to walk towards her, slowly. "You are beginning to test my patience, Madame, now give us the damned boy!"

"I will give you the boy…for a fair price, compensation for the trouble he has caused me! Masquerading around as the son of a dead Count, how absurd!" Erik felt his resolve begin to crumble; this woman did not know who she was dealing with. He clenched his jaw.

"We will not pay you, Madame. Not until we have seen that he is still alive…" Sidney burst into the room and cut Erik off. He was stunned to see the two men in the her study, she rarely had male visitors.

"Are you alright, Madame?" he asked sheepishly.

"Yes of course I am! What is it?" All three of them were staring at the burly intruder.

"Its Bertrand's girl Ma'am, she's gone mad! I caught her trying to escape again! I've had to lock her in the bathroom, I didn't know what to do!" Erik and Nadir locked eyes, Agatha began to walk to the door, "God she really is desperate isn't she. Come…" she motioned with her hand to the two men "You can see for yourselves what all the trouble has been about!"

XXXXX

They reached the bedroom and Agatha put the key in the lock, it clicked, and she opened the door slowly. There was no noise, the balcony doors were open and the curtains danced slowly in the breeze. Only a few candles were lit, and they quivered helplessly in the draft. Erik pushed past Agatha and marched into the room; he surveyed it carefully and made his way to the balcony. The bed sheets had been tied together in a vain attempt to make a rope. _This poor wretch must have been desperate! _He thought sardonically.

"It seems people will go to any lengths to escape you, Madame, how flattering!" He said. Agatha glared at him and made her way over to the bathroom door.

"Go in there and get her, Sidney! I want these men to meet this trouble maker! That's surely more of a punishment than anything I can do to her!" Nadir lingered by the doorway, he felt uneasy about the whole situation.

"I can assure you, Madame, that I have no desire to meet one of your common whores! But if it pleases you, please do bring her in! I'm intrigued to see what this Bertrand fool has been hanging around for!" he heard a shriek behind him as a figure was thrown at his feet. He grimaced inwardly at the sound of bones colliding with the cold stone floor, and the sobs of a young girl. He turned round slowly, locking eyes with Agatha, who was smiling uncontrollably; he then lowered his gaze to the floor.

All breath seemed to escape his lungs as he saw the big eyes of Christine staring up at him. They shone with a mixture of shock and longing. She seemed paralysed with utter disbelief. His mind went into torment, _what on earth is she doing here? She should be with le Vicomte! So, this is what Bertrand has been hanging around for, my Christine... _For a few moments the world stopped, and time seemed to cease. All the anger and fury that had consumed him melted away as he starred into the eyes of his beloved Christine.

Christine forgot all about her current situation, and all that had happened in the last few months. It was as if no time had passed since she was on that staircase at the Bal Masque, looking at him like she was now. There was nobody else in the room; there was nobody else in the world. When Sidney had pulled her from the bathroom and dragged her across the floor, everything had been a great blur, she knew there were figures in the room, but she didn't have time to take in their faces. She had then been pushed to the floor, she cried as her delicate frame was abused by the stone.

She landed at the feet of a man; he stood with his back to her and all she could see was black cloak that enveloped his frame. His was saying something, that voice, it was... She allowed her eyes to travel up his tall figure, taking in every inch of him, whoever it was looked like a living shadow. She thought her heart had stopped when she saw the face, _that face_. The face of the Phantom; her angel. She did not know what she felt more of in that single moment, complete fear or utter relief. She was once again flooded with the conflicting emotions only he could arouse in her, wanting both to stay and to run at the same time. He seemed as shocked as she, the authority with witch he usually carried himself had gone, in that moment he looked as vulnerable as a young boy, simply staring in silent wonder.

Agatha took a moment to take in the scene in front of her. This was not the reaction she had expecte, or hoped for. These two seemed in absolute awe of each other. And then the realisation hit her like a bullet to the head, _these two are not strangers. _The masked man who had sent fear flowing through her veins only moments earlier had momentarily lost his ferocity, his shoulders was slightly slouched, and his face looked almost lost in some private testament of grief. Agatha had the uneasy feeling she had unwillingly signed her own death papers.

As Erik stared down at the face of the woman for whom he would give his life, he noticed how much she had changed. The fragile innocence that has been Christine seemed extinct, and those deep eyes were blank; there was no trace of a sparkle. She had clearly not slept or eaten for days, and dressed like a member of the chorus from his Don Juan. What on earth had happened to her? Erik broke eye contact first; his broad shoulders straightened the fire snapped back into his eyes.

Those eyes which only moments earlier had glowed an intense emerald, seemed to suddenly shimmer a burning amber. They scolded all who looked into them. And even though he was angry at Christine for leaving, for forsaking him to be with the Vicomte, and for ultimately ending up in this place, his unconscious desire to protect her suddenly consumed him. He did not look at her again, but stepped in front of her, acting like a shield between her and the rest of the room. Agatha instinctively took a few steps back.

"Daroga, take her to your carriage. On your way out collect the boy." He demanded softly, but pure venom resonated from somewhere in his tone. Nadir stared at his friend with disbelief. "Do it now, Daroga…I'm sure Madame Farnsworth and myself can come to some sort of arrangement…" he held his gloved hand out to Christine, who took it sheepishly like she had so many times before, putting her unconscious trust in her dark saviour. He pulled her up easily, and she felt as though she was floating to her feet. Little did she know this small piece of treasured contact was killing his soul.

Nadir feared this calm resolve more than he did Erik's outrageous temper, it was more calculated, so he made a nod of agreement to his friend. Erik gracefully removed his cape and put it around Christine's small frame. He wanted to hide her perfect body away from the world. She was still his, and he could not bear to see her so degraded. She was still staring at him in a complete trance, but he would not return her look. He simply nodded to Nadir who put his arm around Christine; she jumped at the contact, but then looked almost happy to see the Daroga, a look that did not go unnoticed by Erik. Nadir led her from the room; they were followed by Sidney who had been told by Agatha to free Darius. All she wanted was this masked man out of her house; she would have to think of something else to tell Bertrand. He was like dealing with a small kitten compared to this man.

"Will you join me on the balcony, Madame? I think we could both use the air…" Said Erik. Agatha nodded and walked out onto the balcony, Erik followed.

"You better have a decent amount in mind, monsieur! I don't care who you are, I will not be taken advantage of…" Agatha suddenly felt her whole body feel weightlessness, in a blur of seconds everything was upside down, Erik held her over the balcony one hand clamped over her mouth.

"Please do not struggle, Madame you will only make things worse!" He hissed through gritted teeth, "Now, there is something you should know about me, Madame, I have killed many men; I have squeezed the life out of their wretched bodies with these very hands. Sometimes I even took pleasure in it! I am also a thief and a vile extortionist…but in all of my years on this earth, I have never harmed a woman, something I'm sure you will be glad to know at this moment. But I promise you this; if you ever come near her again, I will kill you!" He pulled her back over the edge and she fell to the floor, crying into the stone of the balcony. "One more thing, the next time you make one of your _sacrifices. _Make sure they don't already belong to me!" He took a bundle of money from his pocket and threw it at her "Here! Have that which you crave most, Good evening, Madame. I hope our paths do not cross again." He disappeared into the shadow, leaving Agatha paralysed with fear.

XXXXX

Christine starred out of the carriage window as Fairmont House disappeared from view. She was still in utter shock from what had just happened, but the relief of being away from that woman was too great, and she could feel her eyes beginning to close, sleep beckoned her.

She did not know where she was going now, but she didn't care. Nothing could be worse than what she had already been through. She had found her angel, though weather it was for better or worse, she did not yet know. But she knew she would rather be with him, than with Agatha or Bertrand. Erik did have a dark soul, but he would not hurt her. For the moment, she snuggled down into the cape that protected her from night's chill, and let its masculine scent ease her into a dreamless slumber.

XXXXX


	9. Love Lingers in the Dark

Chapter Nine: Love Lingers in the Dark.

The journey from Fairmont House had been trancelike for the three unlikely companions. Nadir had spent it in apprehension worrying about what Erik would do to that woman, tonight had changed everything. Till the day he died he would never forget the look on Erik's face when he saw Christine again, he died and was resurrected in one unusual combination. Nadir had seen Sidney drag Christine from the bathroom but the complete shock of seeing her had paralysed his feet; he had shuddered at the sound of her body hitting the cold floor and had stared in wide eyed awe as the fated pair had come face to face again. She was so frail he that it was a wonder she didn't shatter into a million pieces. She had changed so much from the last time he saw her, if possible she was even thinner and she did not radiate the same youthful glow. It occurred to Nadir that in the few months since he had seen her she had aged years, she looked like a woman who had given up, not a child hungry for life.

The carriage had been rumbling down the narrow country roads for about an hour, jutting every so often as the wheels hit the uneven surface. Christine had been sleeping for a good hour wrapped in Erik's black cloak, Nadir was sure her lips were curled up ever so slightly in the smallest of secret smiles. He had not known where to take her, Erik's instructions had been only to get her out of Fairmont House, and Nadir had decided that she probably needed to be as far away from Paris as possible. He knew Bertrand would come looking he was not a man with a reputation for giving up. She needed to be safe, and so they had begun the three hour journey to the house on the hill.

Darius had been mute since Nadir had freed him from the cellar. The disappointment etched in his master's eyes had expressed more than words ever could; he knew he had a lot of making up to do. His stupidity had ruined everything and he knew this situation has made him seem even more the foolish youth. His body ached with every jerk of the carriage and he held on to his sides in pain, Sidney had done his job well. Darius wondered weather there was an inch of him that wasn't covered in bruises. He looked across at the sleeping form of Christine; she looked so peaceful and he was glad she was finally free from the chains Agatha Farnsworth. Another jerk of the carriage made him wince in agony. Nadir looked at his young servant with a shake of his head.

"We need to get those looked at, you're of no use to me like this"- Nadir mused thoughtfully – "I bet Erik will know just what to do…" Darius paled, _Erik!_ He was sure to kill him after what he had done! He would know by now that Darius had been lying to him all along, _I would rather suffer the pain of my bruises than witness the chilling wrath of that man! _Nadir was looking at his manservant with a smile laughing inwardly, Erik would most likely do nothing to Darius, especially now Christine was back on the scene, but maybe the boy didn't deserve to be put out of his misery just yet._ A couple of days at least! _Nadir thought to himself. The mention of Erik's name also seemed to rouse Christine from her slumber and she opened her eyes wearily. She took a few moments to adjust to her new surroundings and fellow travellers.

"I am glad you managed to get some sleep…_Viscomtess?_" Nadir asked inquisitively, he needed to know whether she had gone through with the wedding or if they needed to return her to her husband…

"Please, Monsieur Khan…its just Mademoiselle. I…I did not marry Raoul" She answered uneasily staring out of the window into the night. Nadir gave her an understanding nod. "Where are we going Monsieur?"

"To the house on the hill Miss Daae, it is quite far from Paris I thought you might need some distance from the city…" Christine smiled at him and then at Darius who blushed. "It is a magnificent place Miss Daae…it… belongs to Erik." He said almost hesitantly wanting to test her reaction. Her face fell into an emotion he could not locate and she once again turned her attention to the window.

"Where is he?" came her simple answer. Nadir felt his mouth dry out, the truth was that he did not know. Erik was a law unto himself and might not return for several days - or he could already be at the house awaiting their arrival, the possibilities were endless. He spread his hands in a hesitant gesture of confusion and shook his head.

"_Who knows" _he said softly. Christine looked sorrowfully into his eyes for a few moments and then nodded, in understanding of his meaning. None of them could hope to pinpoint the actions of a man who did not adhere to the laws of human nature. She pulled the cloak tighter around her body and gazed out of the window.

XXXXX

They arrived at the house some hours later; Christine had been unable to sleep (unlike her companions) and had spent the remainder of the journey thinking about Erik. Questions ate at her mind like acid, why did Erik have a house? Did he live there alone? She felt her heart pang painfully at the thought of him loving someone else, _being_ with someone else. She thought about that look in his eyes as he gazed down at her, there was such disappointment and sorrow there. She feared what he might have done to Madame Farnsworth or to Bertrand – or both. But strangely she didn't care what fate ravished upon them, she only hoped the fires of hell were warm enough to melt their cruel souls. There was one question that had been on her mind since she had seen him again…_does he still love me? _It had been there in his soulful eyes, that raw emotion that escaped whenever their eyes met. That look said more than a thousand songs ever could and terrified her weak soul. But it had disappeared as quickly as it had come, like the twinkle of a night star hovering delicately. It had been replaced by a dark fire and his eyes had turned into scornful pools of stone. But there had been no blazing anger, only the calm controlled rage that was even more terrifying and more calculating. This was Erik at his most powerful and a cold reminder to her just what he could be capable of. In her months of anguish she had turned him into something else, a solution to her emotional turmoil she had longed for him so much that she had allowed herself to forget his dark past…and now she was going to live in his house, for the foreseeable future at least. As the house came into view her heart had plummeted. It stood on a hilltop surrounded by woodland; it was large and looked eerily majestic in the night sky – just like the man who owned it.

The three companions departed the carriage and made their way into the grand house, Darius limped slightly behind. It was no where as big as the de Chagny mansion but there was a regal aura to the place. Deep red and purple were prominent and the foyer was bathed in candle light. A young man made his way down the stair case with a look of utter confusion carved into his face. Christine studied him for a moment; he was probably only a few years older than her, with kind blue eyes and mousy brown hair. He looked older than his years, _aged by the stress of working for Erik! _She thought to herself.

"Monsieur Khan!" – He said cheerfully with a bow – "The master is not here at the moment. Can I ask what brings you here at this unsociable hour?" Nadir spread his hands and gave the boy a level stare.

"I know he is not here Marcus, I have been with him much of the night. I do not pretend to know where he is now; you know how he can be…" Marcus nodded "I apologise for the time, but things happened tonight that were beyond our control." Nadir motioned to Christine who hesitantly stepped out of the shadow. Marcus did all he could to keep his mouth closed. _It's her! The girl from the picture…what is she doing here! _She looked empty; those eyes that held such emotion in the painting were now vacant. For some reason she was here in this house wearing his master's cloak. The past of his mysterious employer seemed to get more interesting by the day.

"This is Christine Daae," Nadir began "she will be staying here for a while; I trust you will make her feel at home"

"Of course!" Marcus answered with a reassuring smile at Christine, "It will be a pleasure to have you here mademoiselle," Christine returned his smile with hidden suspicion; she had spent so long in the company of Madame Farnsworth she had forgotten how friendly some people could be, she felt strangely out of her depth in this display of formal civility.

"You must all be exhausted…please Monsieur Khan, you and Darius retire to your usual rooms, I will get Miss Daae settled in. It seems to have been a long night for all of you" Nadir looked at Christine who nodded; he gave her a warm smile and bowed, he and Darius wearily climbed the grand staircase.

"Please, follow me…" Marcus said reassuringly, Christine followed timidly, taking in the sights of the house as she did. It was magnificent, mysterious statues and artwork seemed to hang from every wall. She realised they must come from Nadir's native land she had never seen such artwork before in Paris. Candles lined the hallways and gave the whole place a mystifying glow. This was definitely Erik's home, and even though she knew he was not in the house his presence seemed to ooze from everything.

"Your room will be in the west wing of the house," Marcus said trying to break the tense silence "It has views of the gardens…it's a beautiful room Miss Daae you will feel very at home…" Christine smiled at him; she knew the only place she would feel at home in this house was in the strong arms of its master. "Please go anywhere you want everyone will make you welcome, but – try to avoid the upper East Wing. Just for your own sake. The master is a very private man." Christine's eyes were at the floor, she knew all to well of his privacy.

"Thank you for telling me, and thank you for being so kind." She said genuinely. Marcus was stunned by the purity in her voice. He opened the door to her room and lit the lamps Christine stepped in behind him drinking in the beautiful sight around her. This room was in complete opposition to the rest of the house. It was decorated in green and blue, with beautiful paintings of flowers all around the room. The bed was large and had lovely silk sheets, the sight of it made her realise just how tired she was.

"Well I shall leave you to rest…I think you will find a night gown in there," He said pointing to a mahogany wardrobe which was decorated in rose carvings "Nicole _the maid_ always keeps this room feminine I think its her favourite, she will be glad its finally getting some use, in fact I think you're the first female guest we've ever had here…" Marcus stopped, realising he may have said too much, he walked over to the door. "Pleasant dreams Miss Daae, I look forward to seeing you in the morning." She smiled sweetly at him and he closed the door. Her body was yearning to sleep and she reluctantly parted with Erik's cloak that had kept her small body warm for so long. She placed it neatly over the chaise and smoothed the expensive material with her fingertips. She then began to rip the hideous dress Agatha had forced her into from her body it had been making her flesh itch. She dressed in a beautiful nightgown that was decorated intricately will small flowers and clambered into the big bed. The silk sheets felt heavenly against her skin, she turned off the oil lamp and nestled down into the pillows. Even the bedposts had carvings of entwined roses, she realised that in the space of a night she had gone from living in hell to residing in heaven. She thought for a moment on Marcus's last statement _the first female guest! _Relief swept through her body and allowed her to relax. Sleep came easily to her the secret scent of the pillows seemed familiar and warm, the mysterious fragrance engulfed her head and eased her into slumber, like a distant soft lullaby.

She awoke in the morning to the chirping of birds. No dreams had relayed through her mind that night and it felt like mere seconds since she had closed her eyes. The events of the previous evening came back to her slowly a different image remembered with every heartbeat. She sat up to take in the sight around her. She was really in his house it had all been real, she got out of bed and opened the drapes relishing in the soft carpet against her bare feet. Daylight was unleashed on the room, it was then she noticed that the cape had disappeared from the chaise.

He was back.

XXXXX

_Not being able to trust your own heart is dangerous. The feelings we crave are not always honourable and can not be justified by the naïve concept of human reason. Some cravings go deeper and some needs are more primordial. __I do not understand the feelings I have for this man, but for so long my heart has been haunted by echoes of his imposing music. The immortal notes forever linger in my mind; I am susceptible to his every whim. And what scares me the most and what has always scared me is that I don't care. In fact, I want it this way. Now I am in his house, living in his kingdom of music once again, living in the agonising limbo of pleasure that is life with Erik. It seems in the last few months I have entered various versions of hell and have died a few small deaths, only to end up where I began. Back in the place I should never have left. _

_Christine Daae. _

Christine set down the pen and stared at the parchment scared by the intensity of her own words. Her feelings were so raw and so near that she had felt the insatiable need to write them down. She had hoped then that maybe what she wanted would become clear but it wasn't, it seemed that her feelings were still at war with the voices in her head, the voices that told her to believe in nothing but the holy Lord and the voices that still berated her for leaving Raoul. But her heart hadn't stopped pounding since she had seen the empty chaise. He had been here, in the room while she was sleeping and the exhilarating thought of him being so close was terrifying her.

There was a soft knock at the door.

"Yes?" Christine called hesitantly "…come in." she pulled the robe tightly around her frame and awaited the entrance of her caller. A red haired girl entered the room, she had green eyes and a warm freckled face, and dressed in traditional maid attire she seemed to be carrying several parcels. She reminded Christine of her maid Marie at the de Chagny mansion. The girl was eyeing Christine nervously, as if she was standing before the lady of the house. She gave Christine a small curtsey and continued to stare.

"Good morning ma'am, I'm Nicole I will be helping you this morning. I was sent into the town this morning to buy you some things I hope you like them … I did my best to stick to what monsieur Khan told me…. I hope you slept well, this is such a lovely room I'm glad someone is finally able to enjoy it" She was fiddling nervously with her apron awaiting a response from Christine.

"Please Nicole I'm not your mistress, call me Christine we're really not very different at all," Nicole seemed to relax and gave Christine a relieved smile, "But I've never been to good at lacing my own corset, would you mind giving me a hand? I'd love to see what you have brought"

Nicole helped Christine to dress into a simple navy blue gown with embroidery on the bodice. The two girls chatted politely about the weather and their favourite flowers, Christine was relishing in the simple conversation with this pleasant girl. Her life had been so out of control recently that it seemed extraordinary to be partaking in such a simple thing. Nicole was busy chatting away to Christine as she pinned back her hair.

"…oh and the rose gardens are most exquisite Christine, you really should take a look the master has quite an eye for beauty…" she stopped mid sentence as she noticed Christine's eyes widen in mention of her master. But the new houseguest seemed recover herself as quickly as she faltered.

"Tell me of him …" Christine said suddenly "your master, what do you know of him?" Nicole was staring back at her in the mirror, unsure of how to respond. Christine turned and looked into her eyes. "I promise whatever you tell me will go no further."

"Very well," – Nicole sighed – "He…well from what I have seen he is a very private man, we rarely see him. He stays up in the East Wing so much that it's hard to tell whether he is even in the house…but when he wants to make his presence felt – he can. He is very powerful! I've never known such a man Christine!" Nicole began to blush "I try to stay out of his way whenever possible. Marcus was once on the receiving end of his temper…" she lowered her eyes and continued pinning Christine's hair. Christine was staring at her with a concerned frown.

"_He wouldn't hurt you_…_I just know it_" Christine whispered tears gathering in her doe eyes, Nicole looked up at her. "Is he … here now?" Nicole was eyeing her thoughtfully.

"Well I haven't seen Marcus around this morning, that usually means the master is here somewhere…come Christine, let me show you the rest of the house you can't hide away in here forever" Christine rose and began to follow Nicole nervously, she felt uneasy about leaving the safe sanctuary of her room.

XXXXX

The two girls had made their way around much of the house. Christine has seen the gardens, the dining room and the library all of which maintained her belief that this was the most beautiful house she had ever been in. As they turned into a corridor that lead back to the main foyer they were met by the friendly face of Darius, he smiled brightly, Christine was relived to see familiar face.

"Good day, Miss Daae – Nicole," he said with a bow, the two girls made eyes at each other and smiled.

"Good morning Darius," Christine began "What on earth has you looking so flustered?"

"Master has had me running errands all morning…" he replied, unsure of how much he should say Christine raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Oh that reminds me! – I have chores to be getting on with!" Nicole said worryingly "Christine you will be ok in the company of Darius won't you?" Christine nodded hesitantly in response "Good, well I shall leave you both now, I'll come to find you later Christine, Good day Darius!" Nicole said with a small curtsey before scurrying away down the corridor. Darius turned to Christine with a concerned expression.

"Are you ok Christine? – I have been meaning…wanting to come and see you all morning but it seems my master has had other plans for me! We did not expect you to be up and about so soon, you should be resting –." Christine placed her hand on his arm to silence him and smiled warmly.

"Thank you for your concern Darius, but really I feel fine. I can't tell you how to feels to be away from that house!" Darius returned her smile for a few moments, then he looked up and his face fell, he seemed to turn yellow. Erik was striding down the corridor towards them.

"There you are boy!" Erik roared "It seems you have been doing your best to avoid me all morning, well now I've found you … looks like I win!" his voice was harsh and steely he had not yet acknowledged Christine's presence even though she was staring at him in hypnotized astonishment. His sharp gaze was fixed on a terrified Darius.

"Of course not Erik - I…err it was my master he's been keeping me busy…" Erik raised an eyebrow.

"You've told me enough lies already, get to my office now!" Darius was nodding but his feet would not obey and he remained frozen to the spot. Erik looked at Christine for the first time - she was still gazing at him. Their eyes met momentarily and Christine felt as though she was being pulled into his magnetic orbs. He smirked slightly and gave her a curt nod, then ripped his eyes away from her stare. He turned on his heel and strode past them, "NOW DARIUS!" he called over his shoulder. Darius finally found his feet and began to trot after the masked man.

Christine suddenly felt limp she had to lean against the wall for support, the shock of being so casually dismissed stung her soul. _Do I mean nothing now? Even Darius seems to inspire more emotion from him than I do! But then why did he save me? Why not just leave me there to rot! Does he not care what I have been through! _She could feel the hot tears coursing down her cheeks and could do nothing could stop them. Every time she saw him she just wanted to throw herself into his arms, she wanted to be encased by his love and feel safe. _He must not love me anymore…and I can't blame him I denied him everything, its only fair that he does the same to me now…_

XXXXX

Darius sat on a chair outside Erik's office he could hear the raised voices and jumped every time Erik shouted. He did not want to go into that room.

Nadir sat in a chair watching his friend, the veins in Erik's neck looked ready to burst and the muscles in his broad back were tense. In all the years of their friendship he had never seen Erik in such a state. If they had not known each other for so long he might fear for his own life.

"Maybe we should hold fire for a little while Erik – Christine is safe, that is something we should be most thankful for…we know now what he was up to! We need to let the dust settle before we try again, we need to wait until his guard is down…now is not the time"

"Wait? Do you honestly expect me to wait? I want his head Daroga! Do you hear me…I want that bastard dead!" Erik was pacing furiously, fists tightened into balls of rock. Nadir let out an aggravated sigh.

"I told you Erik, Bertrand is the foulest specimen ever to walk the earth! When I think of what he had planned for her it sickens me …" Erik stopped pacing and turned to his Persian friend with eyes of fury.

"I can assure you Daroga…he will pay for ever setting eyes on her! He will beg for death by the end!" Nadir felt his heart leap to his throat Erik did not seem to be in mood to be reasoned with. And be begun to fear for the fate of Agatha Farnsworth…Nadir walked closer to his friend cautiously, like a child approaching a hungry lion. When he spoke his voice was calm.

"Where were you all night Erik?" Erik narrowed his eyes thoughtfully but did not answer. "Please tell me that you did not kill her! Allah! That's all we need…did you Erik? Did you kill her?"

"You don't need to worry for my soul Daroga or for your conscience…I did not kill her, but I wanted to! My God I would have taken great pleasure in that!" Nadir let escape a relived sigh. "No, I decided death was not good enough – I will find another way to reap revenge on her…" His voice was eerily calm.

"What stopped you? Allah knows it wasn't my voice in your head!" Erik turned his back to Nadir and began to stare out of the window.

"Don't play the devil's advocate Daroga it doesn't suit you…you know what stopped me." Erik's shoulders seemed to relax a little as he became lost in private thought. "What if we hadn't found her Nadir? What would have become of her! – How could she be so stupid! I gave her the freedom she wanted, and look how she repays me! Why didn't she just marry that blasted fop of a boy! Why…_why Christine_" his hands were gripping the large window pane so tightly the wood looked as though it were about to snap. And although Nadir could not see his face he could sense the tears that were falling.

"I blame myself…" Nadir began thoughtfully "She was so distant at the Vicomte's party – I should have sensed then that something was amiss, she seemed so worried about Bertrand…I was to caught up in my own plans to notice" Erik stood up straight and levelled his shoulders, a tense silence lingered for a few moments. He turned around slowly with shaking hands and looked at Nadir with complete disbelief.

"You…saw her! You knew he had his poisonous gaze fixed upon her and you did NOTHING!" Nadir sank back against the wall slowly. "My god…the incompetence of you and your manservant astonishes me! Why did you lie to me Daroga?" Nadir found a small piece of strength and stood tall.

"I did not lie to you Erik! What good would it have done if I had told you? She was going to marry the Vicomte! I thought she would be safe…just as _you_ did!" Erik let out an arrogant exhale and raised his arms ironically.

"Indeed! How right we both were Daroga, I was right about that fop all along…why did he send her away? This is his entire fault, I swear when I get my hands on his pitiful throat I'll…" Nadir placed a hand on Erik's tense shoulder.

"It seems your going to be a very busy man Erik…have you forgotten all you promised me? You don't know the details; there is only one person who can tell you what really happened – why don't you talk to Christine?" Erik walked away from his friend and returned to the window.

"Don't meddle in things that do not concern you Daroga…maybe you should leave."

"Erik, you cannot ignore her! She is in your house! You cannot let her waste away in that room all alone…you don't fool me my boy, I know how you feel about her…" Erik's shoulders began to tighten.

"I'm warning you Daroga, do not be meddlesome! Now leave me - your presence is beginning to irritate me!" Nadir shook his head he was all too familiar with Erik's dismissal of feelings. He knew he needed to stand his ground.

"I will not leave Erik, you cannot ignore this! It changes everything!"

"IT CHANGES NOTHING!!" Erik roared suddenly "If you will not leave – then I will!" Erik stormed towards the door, savagely yanking it open and slamming it behind him with such force the house seemed to shake to its foundations. Nadir sighed hopelessly, _when will he learn that some things cannot be denied – I can see that the girl loves him! It pours out of her whenever she speaks of him! Oh Erik why must you be such an insufferable fool?_

XXXXX

Erik had stormed around the house and its grounds twice and still his blazing inferno of rage would not cool. "Why does that damned Daroga always think he's right!" he muttered to himself over and over. "She deceived me! How can I forget that? And now she has thrown all that I sacrificed away! The stupid child…this changes nothing, I will never be that betrayed again!" he strode down the corridors hoping to find Marcus, he needed someone to shout at, someone who would not answer back like Nadir. A soft distant sound made him change direction. He followed it down a corridor and ended up outside Christine's bedroom door. The sound was clear now, the bitter-sweet sound of her sobs. His heart broke at the sound of her cries. He yearned to be there for her like he had so many times before, to be her angel of music and sing her tears away. His gloved hand caressed the mahogany door and he fought every impulse in his body that told him to break it down and take her in his arms. "_Oh Christine…" _he whispered as he sank down to the floor resting his back against the door "_…why?" _his sobs resonated with her own and he could no longer tell which sound belonged to who. Only the thick mahogany door kept them apart, but in this moment it was a barrier he was to weak to overcome. He ran his fingers through his black hair and let the tears fall. He remembered how she had looked the previous evening when he had entered her room to retrieve his cloak. She looked as peaceful as a sleeping angel, her dark curls sprayed across the pillow. He was sure she had smiled as he sang a quiet lullaby. All he had wanted was to be resting in that bed beside her. But his heart had hardened slightly as he realised that would never happen. She was not here out of choice, he had reminded himself; she had nowhere else to go.

Only when her room was silent did he rise from the floor, convinced she had finally fallen asleep. He knew he could not ignore her forever and it would only be a matter of time before his act of cold indifference towards her became transparent. But he would not let her see how vulnerable she made him. Being that weak again was something he could not face. He rested his forehead against the door and sighed "_Sweet dreams…mon ange"_ he whispered tenderly before walking away down the dark corridor.

XXXXX

AN: Another chapter on the way soon…


	10. The Shackles of Pride

AN: Thanks to everyone that reviewed the last chapter – unfortunately Bertrand is going to be around for a while yet! And he makes his nasty return very soon…

Chapter 10: The Shackles of Pride.

Christine had been a resident of the house on the hill for nearly a week. Her days had been spent mainly in solitude accept for the occasional visit from Nicole or Darius. But now the Daroga and his manservant had returned to Paris she felt truly isolated. She had not seen Erik since she had been icily dismissed in the hallway. She did not even know if he was in the house, Nicole did her best to avoid talking about her master and the very mention of Erik caused Darius to become faint. She felt locked in the torment of her own mind. She had begun to write memoirs - personal testimonies of her love for an impossible man. He was a stranger in so many ways but also the other half of her soul. Writing everything down seemed to keep her sane. Being in this house had allowed every emotion to surface. The fear, the longing and the awe she could no longer deny. There were also other feelings, private thoughts that she did not understand. Her desire for him was not something she had ever felt before. These deep urges were governing her every waking moment. The hunger to be consumed by him completely had never been stronger. But she did not know how to cross the void that separated them…

_I feel like the petals of a withered flower. My days of glory and beauty are gone forever and I am left to decay in the harsh beams of sunlight. The vital drops of water that could sustain my life are constantly denied to me, and the one who has the power to give me life lacks the courage to do so.__ And I lack the courage to ask. But I know this person can only live while I am in bloom. And I can only survive in the fertility of their love. I am both the keeper and the kept. I only hope we can regain harmony before my last petal falls, for both our sakes… _

It was a bright day in late autumn and Christine yearned for fresh air, the constricting atmosphere of her room seemed suffocating. She needed the comfort of sunlight. She retrieved a red cloak from her wardrobe and made her way downstairs. She left the house using the servant's exit; there was less of a risk of bumping into Erik this way. She walked around the gardens and sat on the edge of one of the beautiful fountains. She stared into the water gazing at the stranger who stared back. She was beginning to look more like herself again, but she knew part of her was changed inexplicably. She was stronger and she could feel it. She knew now what she wanted and needed, the masked man that haunted the east wing of the house.

She left the fountains and continued to walk around the grounds blind to everything but her thoughts. Shards of rain began to pelt the ground and in no time at all she was drenched. She picked up her skirts and ran to the nearest building. It took moments before she realised she was in the stables staring at the most magnificent horse she had ever seen. He was deep black and had inquisitive brown eyes. Like a war horse from a forgotten era. He gave a small grunt at the intrusion on his privacy. Christine approached him hesitantly unsure of whether she should stroke him. She walked over to him slowly, her curiosity outweighing her fear. She raised her small hand steadily and began to softly pat his nose, smiling at her soothing effect on the beast.

"You must have a way with animals…he does not usually take well to _strangers_" A soft voice called from behind her. She gasped and stepped a few feet away from the animal. Erik stood in the entrance of the stable, soaked by the rain. He was not in his usual impeccable attire; he wore a white shirt that clung to his body and a black cape. They continued to stare at each other for a few agonising moments. The air around them seemed charged with anticipation. Only the sound of rain broke the tense silence that raged between them, Christine felt like she was drowning. It was she who pulled away from his gaze first. She lowered her eyes to the floor and had to remind herself to breathe. Erik smirked slightly at her obvious discomfort. He walked over and began to stroke the stallion confidently with his gloved hand. Christine allowed her eyes to travel up his masculine form. The shirt that he wore was so sodden by the rain that it was almost transparent she could trace the lines of his muscled stomach. The thought of it made her pulse race and she could not feel her legs. His black hair was still immaculately smoothed away from his face and the mask seemed to glow. She pulled her eyes away scared by what would happen if she allowed her eyes to linger. Her mind raced to try and find something to say, anything that would destroy the loud silence that hovered between them.

"I did not think you would still be here…this must be a_ personal _best…" Erik mused sardonically, secretly wanting her to confess her desire to stay. It was taking all of his self control not to pull her to the floor and make love to her. She looked so beautiful, her hair was messy and her cheeks rosy from running. He wanted to cry for how much he loved this girl. But his hard heart was too stubborn to let her see such emotion, and he retained his icy composure.

"I…I – Wanted to…" Christine stuttered in a vain attempt at a response, but her voice would not obey and she found herself mute. They looked at each other again and she could see the disappointment growing in his eyes. The moment was gone and they were once again worlds apart.

"You should wait here until the rain stops…" he said suddenly, his tone was formal and even. "…you will become ill if you attempt to walk out in it…Good day." He gave her a polite nod and strode from the stable. Christine stared after him berating herself for her lack of courage; her tears fell harder than the rain. She sat on a small stool in the corner of the stable with her head in her hands. She had wanted to thank him, to tell him how much it meant to be away from Fairmont House. She had wanted to tell him all that had happened. And most importantly the real reason she had not married Raoul. But she could see the distant anger that he had for her. His deep eyes were full of both mild contempt and shining devotion. Just as they always had been…raging in the conflict of his light and dark side. She knew he would never forgive her for leaving but she needed to hope that he would understand the reasons why – and realise that she regretted it with every breath.

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It was the next day when Nadir and Darius arrived from the city. The house on the hill lay on the outskirts of the small town of Beauvais which was several hours from the city. Luckily for Erik the myth of the Phantom of the Opera was no more than a Chinese whisper in the countryside. But since he rarely left the grounds during daylight he was at minimal risk of being recognised.

Nadir had sent Darius to find Christine he was concerned for the young diva's sanity in a house with only an arrogant ghost for company. He made his way to Erik's office in mild apprehension. He had not seen his masked friend since their disagreement almost a week earlier. And there was never a clue into how Erik would react. He made his way to the foreboding mahogany doors and raised his fist to knock. _Maybe I should just go in…the young swine intrudes on my privacy often enough! _Nadir grasped the large golden handle and thrust the door open. Erik was sat behind a large desk writing something, he did not even flinch at the Daroga's arrival.

"You breathe so loudly Daroga I could hear you through the damned door! And you should really knock before entering my office"

"You're not the Shah Erik!" Nadir retaliated.

"I am in this house!" Erik chided without looking up. Nadir sighed and shook his head with a smile. _Even in the darkest mood he keeps that dry humour! _He walked over to the desk and took a seat opposite Erik.

"Did you find it?" Erik asked softly, still not looking at his friend.

"Yes Erik I found it…I think she may rival Agatha Farnsworth as the sternest woman I have ever met!" Nadir answered thoughtfully. Erik smirked and looked up from his work for the first time.

"Indeed, Madame Giry did always maintain a tight reign on the ballet rats…what exactly did you tell her?" his eyes narrowed slightly.

"I told her the truth…she deserved to know! She has been out looking for Christine every night for weeks; apparently Christine was on her way to Rouen when she disappeared. On her way to visit a friend! when she didn't arrive at the other end Madame Giry became worried, but by then the trail was cold…she even thought Christine may have returned to…" Nadir trailed off, not feeling able to say the boy's name in front of Erik. Erik began to breathe heavily and looked away from Nadir. "…she was most insistent that Christine move back in with her – but I managed to persuade her that the threat of Bertrand was to great. So she has given me a letter to give to the girl instead."

"What did she have to say about her staying in _my_ house?" Erik asked coolly. Nadir dismissed the question with a wave of his hand.

"She is just glad the girl is safe! – and she seemed pleased to learn that you were alive!" Erik remained silent.

"How is Christine?" Nadir asked uneasily. Erik raised his visible brow and turned his attention back to his work.

"How should I know…" he replied grimly, his tone thick with warning. But Nadir was determined not to back down.

"Still playing this game I see! Do you not care what the girl has been through? Really Erik I thought better of you!" Erik had stopped writing and his grip tightened on his pen.

"I've told you before Daroga…do not be meddlesome! I'm letting her stay here, isn't that enough! I should have thrown her into the gutter after what she did to me!" he spoke calmly but Nadir could almost see the growing anger. They did not notice the small feet that hovered on the other side of the door.

"I know you do not mean that Erik! Stop being such an insufferable fool…" Erik rose from his chair and strode to the large bay window.

"I suggest you choose your words carefully Daroga!" he said harshly.

"You do not fool me my boy, I can see through this charade, please do not let pride ruin your life!"

"Hah! Ruin my life….Oh it seems you are the fool Daroga…my life was ruined the moment I was born!" Erik hissed sarcastically "I allowed myself to love once…once in my miserable existence and she threw it all back! My love was not good enough then and it won't be now…Have you ever been left alone in the dark Daroga? It makes you feel the very essence of degradation. Like the most unworthy specimen ever to grace this earth…and I will never feel like that again. So you see Nadir pride is not ruining my life, on the contrary! It's saving it…She can stay until we have Bertrand then I'm finished". Nadir rose from his chair and shook his head.

"I know you have lived most of your life in darkness Erik – but this isn't about you. You admit that you love the girl and yet you pretend not to care what happened to her in that place! I do not believe for one second that you are that void of emotion…self pity will destroy you my friend be careful! Sometimes we need to gamble in the dark to earn a life in the light…the light of your life is fragile Erik, she is like a candle dancing in the breeze. If you do not do something soon she will disappear forever, Christine is not the girl she was. She needs you Erik!" he left the room with a sigh praying that his words of reason had chipped away some of the stone that encased Erik's heart.

Only when the door closed did Erik let the tears escape his eyes. _That damned Daroga! How dare he presume to tell me how I feel – I will not be weak again, she cannot see how she makes me feel! _His mind wandered to how Christine had looked when they found her. Those hopeful chocolate orbs were almost hollow and the tender skin around them darkened from lack of sleep. Her collar bone protruded harshly making her look little more than a flesh covered skeleton. But there was something else, something his memory was only now letting him see. A white bandage covered the bottom half of her left arm. Drops of fresh blood lingered on the fabric. _What did happen to her in there? Did that witch force men upon her? _The thought of it sickened him and ignited the fires in his soul. _HOW COULD I HAVE BEEN SO BLIND TO THIS! _He marched from his study in a blind rage - He needed to find Christine.

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"_She can stay until we have Bertrand! then I'm finished!" _

Christine had run from the door as soon as she heard his venomous words. She should not have ever allowed herself to hope. She had only gone to his office to try and say all that she could not in the stable. To try and mend the bridges that had corroded between them. But his words had stung like the tail of a scorpion. _He really doesn't care! All he wants is to kill Bertrand! I am only the means to an end! How could I be so naïve to think that a man as dark as Erik would be capable of forgiveness!! It is an emotion to sincere for him…I'm such a fool…_her mind sobbed as she ran back to her room.

She had only one other thought in her mind: to get out of this house. It hammered at her head like a drum. She needed to find a way to leave without arousing suspicion. Even if it was only for a few hours. She calmed herself and clenched her small fists in an attempt to stop the tears. She made her way to the servants exit. She was sure she had seen a carriage when she had left the stable earlier…there must be someone to drive it. As she approached the stable she saw her target. A young boy of about fifteen was hovering, his looked messy and straw clung to his clothing. _Ah, the stable boy!_ She thought with a wry smile. Christine approached him slowly trying to look confident, she did not want him to see that her heart was in tatters.

"Excuse me Monsieur…" She said softly. He turned around and smiled brightly at her.

"I was wondering if you may be able to take me to the nearest town…if you are not busy." His face seemed to take a look of mild alarm.

"Does the master know about this?" He said with concern.

"But of course! In fact he insisted that I get away from the house for a few hours…" the boy narrowed his eyes suspiciously "…I can always go and find him, so he can tell you himself?" The boy began to shake his head vigorously.

"No! – No that won't be necessary mademoiselle; I know he does not like to be disturbed. Give me a few minutes to prepare the carriage and we'll be on our way…" Christine smiled brightly. She scurried off into the house; she needed to write a note for Nicole and Marcus. She found a small piece of parchment and a pen and began to scribble…

Ten minutes later she was on her way to Beauvais…

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Erik paced around the house with destructive motivation. Christine had not been in her room and he needed to find her desperately. Guilt threatened to engulf him of he did not. _What if she was beaten in there…or worse – raped _he thought morbidly, his jaw clenched at the thought of somebody steeling her virtue. Taking from her the innocence that made her so magical. He saw Darius and Marcus ahead of him they seemed to be lost in deep conversation. They both froze as they saw the masked man striding towards them.

"MARCUS! Where is Miss Daae?" Erik demanded. Marcus felt himself shrink. He kept the arm which contained her note tucked behind his back.

"I-I don't know master…" He replied nervously "She…she seems to have disappeared!" Erik's eyes narrowed and without warning he grabbed Marcus by the collar and held him against the wall, the boy's feet hovered off the ground.

"Where has she gone? Don't lie to me boy…" Erik hissed through clenched teeth and shook Marcus again. Marcus lost his grip on the note and it floated to the floor.

Nadir stepped out of the shadow and picked it up. Erik shoved Marcus to the side and snatched the note from the Daroga's fingers. He studied it with intense eyes.

"WHAT!" He roared before striding towards the staircase, the other three men were hot on his heels.

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Christine had wondered around the calming streets of Beauvais for several hours. It was a charming town with a stunning cathedral and beautiful architecture, it reminded her so much of Erik. The whole town carried an aura of individual charisma. She wished he could be here to walk around it with her. She imagined them walking arm in arm through the busy streets talking of everything and nothing. Then returning home together, her heart sank a little as she realised this was a life she could never have with him. A normal life in the daylight would never be his. But in a shining moment of clarity she realised she would sacrifice a normal life to be with him…

The afternoon hours had turned to dusk and in her perplexed state Christine had been oblivious to the change in the light. The streets that seemed intriguing hours earlier now seemed unfamiliar and dark. She seemed lost in a maze of houses and streets, her heart hammered in her chest and a feeling of sick panic struck her. She was meant to meet Patrick the stable boy before dusk to return to the house. And as she tried in vain to retrace her steps it became painfully clear that she was completely lost. Each direction seemed the same and to take her deeper into the labyrinth. She yearned to return to the unusual safety of the house on the hill.

"Are you lost Mademoiselle?" A husky voice called from behind her. Christine froze and turned around slowly. A burly man stood not far from her. The obscurity of the dark made it hard to see his face and but she could see the tatty clothing that covered his body. The stench of stale alcohol stained the air.

"No Monsieur," She began trying to sound confident "I am quite alright, now if you will excuse me my husband is expecting me at home." She scurried off into another street in blind panic; she pulled the hood of her cloak up trying to blend in with the night. She had unwillingly turned into a small alley blocked at one end. The only way back to the streets was the way she had come. She turned to see the same man blocking her escape, her breath caught in her throat.

"You seemed quite lost Miss; I thought I best follow to make sure you got home safely…there are some strange folk about!" he began to walk towards her slowly. Christine shrank back against the cold wall crippled with fear. Tears threatened to fall but she blinked them away.

"Please...please – no…" she whispered but he grinned perversely and continued to walk towards her. Adrenaline found her legs and Christine made an attempt to run past him, he blocked her route easily and grabbed her by the arms. She felt her body collide with the cold stone of the wall, his grip on her wrists seemed to burn. She tried in vain to struggle and kick but he was to strong and she remained pinned to the wall. He gripped her wrists above her head with one hand the other began to grope at her skirts. All Christine could do was sob helplessly, images of Erik relayed through her mind, in an attempt at self preservation. Thoughts of him helped to make analysis of this vile situation unnecessary as she tried to distance herself from reality. She tried again to struggle finding enough strength in her legs to try and kick out but he pinned her to the wall with his lower body, he slapped her across her perfect cheek to silence her tormented sobs.

"If would be wise to unhand her now…" A menacing voice called from the entrance to the alley "…do as I say and you shall receive a quick death." The man momentarily stopped his attack on Christine and looked over his shoulder. A back shadow hovered in the dark.

"Wait your turn!" He called to the mysterious stranger "There is plenty of this lovely lady to go around…" The sound of the stranger's footsteps echoed off the walls as he approached: slow and commanding. The burley man was suddenly eerily aware of a cold blade against the back of his neck. He let go of Christine who fell to the floor in tears, she pulled her head into her knees protectively. The brute turned around slowly with his hands spread in a gesture of surrender, completely unprepared for the sight before him. He knew if he lived to be one hundred he would never forget the malice in those burning eyes. They seemed a light with a green flame and almost glowed in the dark. But it was the mask that commanded the most attention. The piercing white shone out against the black foreboding that encased this man. He did not dare to imagine what lay beneath its shiny surface. He became aware that the green eyes had been studying his observations.

"Does my face intrigue you monsieur?" he felt paralysed with shock at the beautiful resonance of the dark man's voice.

"No…please monsieur – there must be another way to settle this…you can have her! I'll never tell anyone…" The masked man seemed to grin.

"You won't get the chance!" Erik said coldly. Suddenly the brute knocked away the rapier with his strong forearm and attempted to run past the Erik. It was like running into a wall of rock. Erik dropped the rapier and punched him across the jaw, the click of his bone echoed in the night air. The brute pulled a small dagger from his sleeve and stabbed Erik in the arm, but Erik did not flinch and punched him again. The man fell to the floor in pain. Erik pulled a Punjab lasso from the depths of his cloak and had it looped around the man's neck in the blink of an eye. He was consumed by a red mist of anger and no reason would stop him from disposing of this man. He pulled the rope tightly and took grim satisfaction in seeing the man writhe for air. The sensation only made up pull harder, images of what this man intended to do to Christine pelted his mind. The man's pupils began to dilate and in his last moments of life he saw the satisfied smirk of the Phantom. Erik pulled once more and grunted in satisfaction at the final snap of the man's neck. He let the limp body fall to the floor and removed the lasso from his neck.

He stood to his full height let his shoulders drop. His ragged breath lingered in the night air. When his murderous rage had calmed he turned around slowly. Christine was huddled in a protective ball against the wall. Her head buried in her arms in a vain attempt to comfort herself. He walked towards her, and although she could sense him approaching she did not move. He knelt beside her and she felt the warm touch of his gloved hand caress her hair. She slowly opened up from her protective cocoon, but before she could breathe she was swept up in strong arms. Erik stood up effortlessly and cradled her against him. Christine let her body relax in his protective embrace, her head rested between his shoulder and neck. She found it odd that the place she felt most safe was in the arms of the most deadly man in France. She closed her eyes in an attempt to block out the rest of the world – and what had just happened.

The familiar faces of Nadir, Marcus and Darius ran towards them from opposing directions.

"Oh praise Allah!" Nadir exclaimed "You found her Erik!" Erik gave his Persian friend a level stare.

"So it would seem Daroga," Nadir could sense the menace in Erik's voice, something had happened. "You should take the carriage back to the house; I'll take her back on Caesar." His tone was grave and left little room for argument or question. He walked over to the horse and carefully placed Christine on his back. In one elegant move he climbed up and sat behind her, one arm clasped around her small form and the other at the horses reigns. He gave the horse a swift nudge and they sped away back to the house. The night air was harsh against her skin and Christine involuntarily took comfort in the warmth of the body behind her. Her last conscious memory was the sound of Erik singing softly in her ear.

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_Paris. _

"And she says he wore a mask" The blonde haired man nodded slowly his brown eyes twinkling he fiddled with the end of his thick moustache.

"A mask yes. And he was accompanied by a Persian fellow, a Monsieur Khan if I remember correctly. Does that name mean anything to you?"

"Why on earth would I know any Persian men? Are you sure she wasn't imagining things Bertrand?" Philippe de Chagny reclined into his chair.

"No – she was gravely serious, you must know the Persian! He was at your blasted party de Chagny!" Philippe waved the question away with his hand.

"My brother's party! And I am certain he did not invite any Persian's I would have remembered! Why the keen interest anyway?" Bertrand's lips began to twitch.

"I think they have something that belongs to me…something that was promised. Agatha Farnsworth has gone quite mad, keeps harping on about seeing into the soul of the devil…" The two men laughed haughtily "…She is of no use to me now, that's why I came to you! It seems this masked man and this Persian are hard to track down. And I want what they have taken from me!" Philippe watched on uncomfortably as Bertrand's leg began to twitch. Bertrand recovered his composure and stared at the Compte.

"Well I think she is talking nonsense, I'd forget about it if I were you. Sounds like a wild goose chase to me…What is to become of the bordello?" Philippe inquired with raised eyebrows.

"I have taken it upon myself to oversee the running of the place until Madame recovers!" Bertrand answered with a perverse smirk. "How is business de Chagny?"

"As well as can be expected with Raoul the way he is. He seems to have thrown himself into work. He's started building some dammed house for himself he's bordering on obsession with the whole project!" Bertrand raised his eyebrows.

"That reminds me; you must come and see my new home when you get the chance. It's a magnificent place, only just finished." Philippe nodded in silent agreement. Bertrand rose from his chair in preparation to leave.

"This thing they have taken from you Bertrand," Philippe said whilst beginning a letter, "valuable was it?" Bertrand finished putting on his gloves and began to walk towards the door.

"Priceless…" he answered "don't worry; I shall get it back – one way or another! Give my best to le Vicomte!" He opened the door and left the oblivious Compte to his work.

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The warm glow of fire replenished the colour in Christine's cheeks; she opened her eyes wearily to the crackling sound of flames. The first thing she noticed was that she was not in her room. She lay on a red chaise in front of a large fireplace, the most magnificent one she had ever seen. She looked up to see Erik sitting across from her in an armchair staring intensely into the flames. Patterns of fire danced magnificently on his white mask. She felt a throb of pain in her cheek and wrists. The memory of what had almost happened struck her and she sat up slowly. Erik made no conscious reaction to her movement. But continued to stare ominously into the fire, she had never seen him so lost in a trance before. She felt like she should not be intruding on his private moment.

"How are you feeling?" he said suddenly without moving his head. Christine felt her tongue begin to dissolve in her mouth.

"I…ok I suppose" she said almost in a whisper. His eyes met hers.

"You should be more careful in future; such stupidity could get you killed!" his tone was harsh but radiated hidden concern. Christine blushed and her eyes fluttered to the floor.

"I couldn't stay where I am not wanted." She replied coldly. They looked at each other in parallel surprise at the bravery of her words. She snapped her eyes away and stared into the fire. Erik remained silent.

"Your arm should heal nicely…" he said in controlled calm "…and I do not mean the bruises" she stared down at her left arm, it was bandaged neatly and she could feel a slight tingling sensation, for the first time that week it did not throb with pain. She looked at him in shock.

"Thank you." She whispered. He nodded politely, it was then she noticed a stain of blood on his white shirt. She rose from the chaise and knelt beside his chair. "…are you ok?" she asked softly. Reaching out to touch his arm, he let her roll up his shirt sleeve; a small scratch lay on his forearm but the bleeding had stopped. Even though it did not need her attention she let her fingertips linger for a few moments. Revelling in the feeling of their bare flesh touching. Erik closed his eyes for a few moments, her delicate fingers seemed to wipe away a lifetime of anguish. And he let himself feel a few moments of pure peace. And then that image struck him again, the small gondola that had spirited her away with the boy, leaving him to die alone in the dark. He pulled his arm from her and rose from his chair.

"You should go to bed, its quite late." He said abruptly. "…will you be able to find your way?" Christine nodded gravely, trying desperately to hide her disappointment. She rose from the floor and looked at him, but this time he would not return her gaze.

"Thank you…for everything." She whispered sweetly, her voice thick with tears. She hurried from the room and closed the door behind her gently. Erik stared at the closed door, tenderly touching the part of his arm she had so delicately caressed. Only his pride prevented him from running after her. His mind raged at him to stay, but his heart had other ideas.

Moments later Erik found himself outside her bedroom door, he needed answers…

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More soon!


	11. Don't Let the Sun Go Down On Me

AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! Not to sure where this one is headed but we'll see…

Chapter 11: Don't Let the Sun Go Down On Me.

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_Don't discard me just because you think I mean you harm…_

…_these cuts I have need love to help them heal… _

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Erik stood outside Christine's bedroom door. The lament in his heart was heavy and he suddenly felt immensely vulnerable. _You don't belong here! Don't let yourself be scorched again by the siren from heaven…they do not mix with creatures from hell…_he ran his hands through his this thick ebony hair in frustration, these voices were his eternal torment. The conflict in his heart and mind were in an epic battle. His mind was the voice of arrogant self preservation. The part of him that let would not let him forget all she had done to him. But his heart, _his heart_ softly swept away his bitter pride and wanted to suffocate her in unconditional love.

He knocked softly on the door, his heart pounding heavily. A few moments passed without a reply and he knocked again, his patience beginning to grow thin.

"Christine?" he whispered into the door, hoping the recognition of his voice would allow her to open up. But his only response was the agonising silence. He opened the door slowly, only to be greeted by the cold darkness of an empty room. He felt a flicker of anger. _Why hasn't she returned to her room?_ Memories of her inquisitive nature returned to him and he left the room and strode to the east wing.

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Christine had not returned to her room, although her body ached to sleep she found her mind was alive with questions. Erik's study was only one of many large doors that haunted the main corridor, and for some reason she had the insatiable urge to find out what lay behind the others. She carried a small candle and gravitated to one of the doors. She had been drawn to this room; the doors were larger than all of the others. The impressive mahogany had magnificent carvings of mysterious people, all dressed like Nadir. She let her hands wonder over the smooth surface. Then they found the handle and she opened it timidly. The room was in total blackness and came to life with the glow of her small candle.

Her heart stopped as she saw the large four poster bed that dominated the room. She felt her mouth dry out as she realised she had entered Erik's bedroom. His scent clung to the air and made her close her eyes. Everything about this room was Erik; it seemed to be decorated completely in deep red. Mysterious artefacts shone out in the dim light and she stared in wide eyed awe at the majesty of it. A small draft caused her candle to go out and she stood in complete darkness afraid to move and breathe.

"When I told you to go to bed, _I did not mean mine_…" A silky voice called out from the gloom. She could not place his location; he seemed both near and far at the same time. "…What are you doing in here?" the voice asked again. She became aware of the malice that clung to the edges of his tone. Suddenly a lamp was lit, and she could see him standing not far from her, close enough to touch. She looked him directly in the eye; she told herself not to be scared of him. But the very presence of that mask commanded authority.

"I lost my way." she said with wavering confidence. Erik raised his visible brow questioningly.

"I'm sure you did my dear." He said sarcastically. "Did your inquisitive little feet take you anywhere else?" Christine shook her head coyly.

"Good" he answered harshly. They looked at each other for a few moments. Soft brown clashed with intense green and he felt his cold resolve begin to drip away. He let out a ragged sigh and his face softened slightly.

"Please…join me?" he said sincerely, motioning to two armchairs that sat in front of the fireplace. Christine nodded and sat nervously in one of the chairs. Erik busied himself with lighting the fire and she stared in awe at his masculine grace. He returned moments later with a bottle of brandy and two glasses. He offered her a glass of the amber liquid and she took it with shaking hands. He grinned secretly as he watched her flinch after downing its contents whole. He sat in the vacant chair and looked at her. This was a very improper situation, to have her in his room when they were not married. And although society's rules did not matter to him, he knew they did to her. But it occurred to him that nothing about their strange relationship had ever followed the laws of propriety.

"What happened to your arm?" he demanded suddenly. Christine's eyes snapped to his. "…the wounds looked quite deep; it must have been a sharp blade." Christine could feel a lump rising at the memory of the awful pain.

"_She did it_…" she said in a distressed whisper. Erik's eyes narrowed into a scowl. "…she did it because I tried to escape. She said she would do it every time I disobeyed her…" her voice trailed off and she stared into space. Erik could not bear to see her looking so upset. It made him feel helpless and that was not an emotion he accepted easily.

"_How did you end up in that den of sin_?" he asked uncomfortably, Christine looked at him but would not meet his gaze "I thought the boy would keep you _safe_" Christine felt her heart pang at the mention of Raoul.

"I was attacked on my way to see Meg, he took everything from me…when I woke up I was there…I didn't think I'd ever be free again, not until Darius…" she stopped, aware that the wrong choice of words would mean trouble for Darius. Erik smirked and looked into the fire, laughing dryly.

"Ah yes, the young knight in shining armour…he is quite the intrepid rescuer." Christine was staring at him. _No that's you…my dark saviour _she thought lovingly. But she did not have the courage to say it out loud.

"You are free to leave here whenever you like…" he said sadly. "I am not forcing you to stay."

"I know," she whispered "but…I like it here, you have a beautiful home Erik" his heart began to race at the sound of his name on her perfect lips.

"Thank you" he said sincerely, she smiled shyly in response. Then he returned his attention back to the fire.

"Were there many men?" he asked unexpectedly, not feeling able to look at her. He knew if she had been forced to sleep with men his fragile heart would never recover. He would also have to return to Fairmont House and finish the job he had started with Madame Farnsworth. Christine blinked with utter shock. She felt unsure and scared of how to answer.

"No…." she answered after a time her tone darker than usual "she did not have the chance to ravish that upon me, I was only intended for one man…"

"Bertrand." Erik said stonily, his gaze distant. Christine nodded dumbly.

"Why was Darius at the house?" Christine asked, feeling her confidence around him growing. Erik would not look at her.

"Nadir has been following the actions of Bertrand for some time. Darius was trying to find out why he had been visiting Fairmont house…you appear to have been the answer." Erik knew the question he so desperately wanted to ask. What he needed to know above all was why she hadn't married the fop. For that was what had ultimately made all of this happen. Had he become bored and thrown her away? Had she left of her own accord? He needed to ask, but he feared that answer above all else.

"He said there were ways…" Christine whispered distantly, more to herself than to Erik. She seemed completely lost in her own thoughts "…he could still find me; I don't think he will give up. He wanted to make me his mistress" she gulped "…I'll never forget the way he looked at me…the way he tried to touch me" tears rimmed her eyes as she stared into the flames. She did not notice the intense rage that had begun to engulf Erik. He stood up with such force that the chair fell backwards and hit the floor. He began to stride towards the bedroom door.

"He will pay for this!" he raged "I have waited long enough!" Christine was on her feet in moments running after the masked man.

"No Erik…" she sobbed "Please wait!" she had to run at full speed to keep up with his large steps. "…you don't have to do this – please stop!" her pleas were ignored as he tore down the corridor. Her cries echoed off the walls.

She caught up to him and pulled at his arm with all her strength to try and make him stop. He whirled around to face her, red with fury.

"You cannot tell me this and expect me to do NOTHING!" he hissed as her hands clung to his sleeve. "…he will pay for what he has done!" he said gravely.

"Please don't go," she stammered through her tears "You could get hurt! _What if he hurts you_?" Erik laughed sardonically.

"Ha! I _doubt_ it my dear," venom laced his voice and sent prickling fear up her spine "you do not have to pretend to be concerned for my safety…what should you care what fate has in store for me?" Christine was breathing heavily overwhelmed by the intensity in his eyes. They were both aware that her hands were still clinging to his shirt. He looked down to see her knuckles whitening from her clamping grip. She could not bring herself to let go. The thought of any harm coming to him was suddenly terrifying.

"Of course I care…" she said quietly, he exhaled arrogantly and shook his head "_I care about you so much Erik…_I – think I…love you" she whispered brokenly. Her eyes never leaving his, he stared back at her in paralysed shock. Unbelieving of what he had just heard. The air in the dark corridor seemed suffocating and thick. She was still clinging to him, she was reluctant to let go. He was like the lifeline to her soul. She could see a lifetime's rejection in his eyes; and she could not comprehend how deep that hurt went._ Is this the first time these words have been spoken to him? _She thought sorrowfully. He was breathing deeply as their eyes fused together in a dance of confusion.

He moved his hand hesitantly and traced her jaw line with his fingertips. She closed her eyes and leaned her head into his large hand. He began to stroke her cheek with his index finger. Slowly their bodies closed the gap that lay between them and his face was inches from hers. She could feel his warm breath on her face and she felt her blood begin to race. Slowly his soft lips met hers in a tender kiss; he could feel his heart melting and his desire growing. His hands were at her waist pulling her small frame into his own. He revelled in the feeling of her body moulding into his, willingly. Each moment of their embrace lapsed into another sweet surrender. And for the second time in his life Erik knew the true meaning of bliss.

But then the images came back, kisses on the rooftop, dancing at the BAL masque and leaving in a gondola. One betrayal after the other, he tore his lips from hers and pushed her away. She stared up at him with hurt surprise.

"Don't do this Christine…" he said through ragged breaths "don't play with fire,"

"I'm not playing," she sobbed reaching out for him again.

"You and your damned innocence!" he yelled "don't say things you don't mean!" he knew if he kissed her again his desire for her would be to great and he would not be able to deny his primitive urges. But no matter how strong his lust was, he loved her too much to take her virtue. He touched her cheek again and let his forehead head against hers.

"Please Christine," he whispered "you know not what you say…please go to bed, before you do something you will later regret."

She knew it was his fear that sent her away, but she had felt something in the momentary heaven of that kiss. She knew now that her love for this man transcended everything. She was determined fear was not going to tear them apart any more, she pulled away from him slowly and looked into his eyes.

"Hold me…" she pleaded softly "Please just _hold_ me tonight, I've been afraid for so long Erik…I have been afraid all of my life…accept when I'm with you" tears rimmed his green eyes, he knew he could not deny her sweet request. He tenderly picked her up and carried her back into his room. He lay her down on the soft silk sheets and blew out all of the candles. She felt his arms envelope her as he lay down beside her, both still fully clothed. For the first time in months Christine felt content. She became lost in the hypnotic embrace of her powerful man. Erik took comfort in the smell of her soft hair and the way she fit perfectly in his arms. His desire for her had never been greater, but tonight it was enough to find solace in her harmonious embrace. That night under the protective gaze of night the void that separated them shrank to the size of a distant star.

XXXXX

_Fairmont House: __Paris. _

Nicolette felt her insides churn as the man above her satisfied his lustful urges and rolled off her. She pulled the sheets around her small body and prayed that he would get dressed and leave the room. She did not mind some of her more regular customers staying but she needed this man to be gone.

"You are quite skilled at the art of _love making_ my girl…" said Bertrand thoughtfully as he dressed himself. He did not see the look of disgust on Nicolette's face. "You're a real woman, not like some of the others in this place; you know how to _please_ a man."

"I'm flattered Monsieur" she hissed sarcastically.

"Ah spirit as well I see! Please do not be so formal we are certainly not strangers anymore…you may call me Edward." She nodded and pulled the sheets up to her neck, trying to ignore the way his eyes traced the lines of her body.

"It was you who found Miss Daae, was it not?" he asked with a twitch of his lip.

"Yes…" she answered hesitantly. The guilt of what had happened to Christine in this place still ate at her daily.

"Were you close?" he asked as he walked over to the window.

"No, I would not say we were. I don't think she could forgive me for bringing her here…"

"But you saved her life! And she was ungrateful….sounds like a spoilt child to me!" he said trying to steer the conversation to his benefit.

"No I don't think she was…naive yes but not spoilt _no_" he turned around to face her.

"What do you know of this masked stranger?" he said questioningly. Nicolette knew he would be able to see through any lies, but in truth she did know nothing.

"Nothing Monsieur…only what Madame Farnsworth has told me…" she gulped "She – she says he was as dark as Hades…with a voice that resonated the sounds of heaven…and eyes that scorch the soul." She seemed to become distant "I hope I never meet that man…is it true he has Miss Daae?" Bertrand nodded and began to pace around the room.

"Yes he does…but do not fret I will have her back soon enough!" Nicolette's eyes widened in horror, she had seen Christine's fear of this man.

"But they say she went willingly…she seemed to know him, _a face from the past_" she whispered to herself. Bertrand stopped pacing at her words.

"Of course!" he said steadily "a face from _her past_…maybe I need to visit Miss Daae's past to find out where she is now…I'm sure her old fiancée will know the identity of this masked stranger…" he mused as he fiddled with his moustache.

"Fiancée?" Nicolette questioned with confusion. Bertrand chose to ignore her. He took some money from his jacket pocket and threw it on the bed.

"Thank you Mademoiselle! You are a genius!" he strode from the room leaving a confused Nicolette to stare at the pile of money in front of her.

XXXXX

Christine awoke in a blissful cocoon of red silk. The sheets had been wrapped around her body and she looked reminiscent of the bud of a red rose. But the strong arms that had cradled her through the night were gone. She was alone in Erik's bed. Her tiny body only taking up a small corner, she felt strangely insignificant. She untangled her self from her silk nest and looked around the room. It was larger than it had seemed last night. The tricks of the dark had made it seem smaller. The sensual aura of the red room made her want to never leave the bed, she was so hypnotised by the beauty of this room that she would willingly make it her eternity. She forced her body to leave its mesmerizing confines and make her way back her own room. She needed to bathe and dress for the day.

When she returned to her room she found that Nicole had already prepared a hot bath for her, she undressed submerged her body in the warm water. Being mindful not to damage her expertly bandaged arm.

When she emerged from her bathroom about an hour later she dressed in a casual green gown and pinned up her hair. She found it amazing that everything in the closet seemed tailored for her. Amazed but not shocked – this was Erik's home after all.

She found a note on her small desk, her name written elegantly in faultless script. She recognised it instantly and ripped the letter open.

_My dearest child, _

_You do not know the sensational relief that I felt when Monsieur Khan told me of your safety. I have been so worried about you my dear! I feel as though I have failed you, only when you have children of your own will you know such fear. I think of you so much as my own that it hurts. I realise it may be difficult for me to visit you, especially with the threat of Edward Bertrand still lingering. But my thoughts and prayers are always with you. I have informed Meg of your safety and she was relived, she sends all her love. And I am sure she will write to you soon. All correspondence will go via Monsieur Khan. I know you will be safe there, but always be mindful of Erik. I am glad you have a true gentleman like Monsieur Khan to watch over you. My love is with you Cherie. _

_Annette Giry. _

Christine's tears fell onto the page and stained the ink. In her own turmoil she had not thought of how Madame Giry would be worrying. Hearing from her suddenly made everything so real again. Here in Erik's house she had been able to forget her past, but one letter had made it all present again. Her mind wandered to Raoul. She hoped that he was alright and that he had managed to move on from her betrayal. She hoped fate had been kinder to him than had been to her. She knew she had done the right thing when she had left, but she wished it had been in a different way. Their friendship was worth more than that, and Raoul deserved better. The guilt of what she had done to her best friend felt like a constant shard of glass in her soul. But sheer desperation and fear had made her run. One way or another back to the only man she would ever belong to. And no matter how much grief she felt over her past, her heart swelled as she remembered the night she had spent in his arms.

XXXXX

Nadir walked to the East Wing of the house in a state of confusion. Erik had been more elusive than usual today and it made him feel uneasy. He had returned to the town of Beauvais earlier than morning. The whole place had been buzzing with the news that a local drunk had been found dead in an alley. Strangled with a rope, he had been relived to learn that the police had no leads or clues. _A complete mystery, _and though he had tried to be angry with Erik for killing the man, he found that he could not. He could not deny that he would do the same thing to protect someone he loved.

He entered Erik's office; it was the third time he had checked the room today for the presence of its master. Erik was sat behind the desk with an expression menacing resolve like Nadir had never seen before.

"Where have you been all day Daroga!" Nadir's mouth dropped open at the nerve of Erik's comment.

"I've been looking for you since I got back from Beauvais three hours ago!" Nadir shouted back at his friend.

"Well, while you've been gallivanting around town I've been thinking" Nadir shook his head wearily and sat in a chair opposite Erik's desk. He made a gesture for Erik to continue.

"I want you to tell me everything you know about Edward Bertrand…I need to know _every detail_."

"But I've already told you Erik…" Nadir sighed.

"Then tell me again!" Erik sneered slamming his fists down on the desk "Only when I know everything will I know how to take revenge!"

"Very well my friend, but more importantly, tell me…how is Christine?" Erik looked down at the desk and gave a small smile at the mention of her name.

"Resting…" he said calmly, Nadir gave a nod.

"Now Daroga tell me all about Monsieur Bertrand…and leave nothing out!"

XXXXX

It was under the protective cloak of night when Christine left her room. She carried a small candle in her hand and floated through the dark hallways like an angel. When she reached the main corridor of the upper East Wing she began to feel the nervous anticipation that she always felt around Erik. It was this exquisite terror she found her self craving whenever she was alone. She had not seen him all day and suddenly felt anxious about her bold decision to seek him out.

"_No going back now" _she whispered to herself as she saw the orange glow of firelight from under one of the doors. She opened the door slowly, peeking in to analyse her surroundings. The grand fire was ablaze and a brooding figure sat on the couch staring into its depths. She walked in and quietly closed the door behind her. She tiptoed across the room until she stood by the red couch; the eyes of its occupant studied her intensely. No words were said as she sat on the couch beside him and curled her legs under her body. Erik turned his attention to the book that rested in his hands. And although his eyes skimmed the words his mind remained fixed upon Christine. She had come to him willingly, for company and comfort. Something he had never comprehended happening. There seemed to be a silent level of understanding between them. He still felt anger towards her for leaving him and for choosing the boy. But too much had happened in recent months and for the moment her safety was more important than the past. For now he took pleasure in her alluring company. Every so often her subtle scent would surround him and make his soul tremble.

The hours rolled by slowly. Christine watched the clock, she felt bitter that her life was ruled by the hands of time. She didn't want this soundless pleasure to end. She had unconsciously moved closer to Erik throughout the evening and her tired head yearned to rest against him. She slowly let her neck gravitate down until her small head met his shoulder. His body seemed tense at first as if unprepared for such contact. Christine momentarily felt as though she was resting against a rock. But slowly she could feel each tense muscle beginning to relax. He moved his arm up, inviting her in further. She smiled and let herself descend into his broad chest. His arm curled around her and rested against her back, his attention never diverting from his book. She let her body weight sink against him and closed her eyes. She smiled secretly to herself as she realised here in this house of darkness, she had found the light in her life.

XXXXX

More soon!

The italic at the beginning of this chapter is from the Elton John song _Don't let the sun go down on me _(Which I in no way own) I just thought it went well with where their relationship. Please R&R!


	12. The Stirring of Midnight

AN: Everything that happens in this chapter is over the space of one night.

Chapter 12: The Stirring of Midnight.

_Paris. _

The air of the Inn was foggy and thick. To breathe it in made the lungs convulse with displeasure. Men chatted and laughed loudly, like a tribe of distant hyenas on the African plains. They talked merrily of gambling and women. They filled themselves with ale and took every available opportunity to grope the passing barmaid.

A hooded man made his way through the crowds, seeking the face of his mystery informant. In his state of nervous anticipation he walked into a table knocking over the drinks of two men. One of them stood up, to teach this young wretch a lesson. But was silenced when a bag of gold coins landed on the table. He nodded in agreement to the young man and sat down. The hooded figure continued to make his way into the crowds. Seeking someone who seemed able to give him answers and hopes. In the darkest corner of the Inn sat the face he had been seeking: Edward Bertrand.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me…Vicomte" Said Bertrand with a twitch of his top lip.

"You said in your letter that you had some information for me…" Raoul frowned "I trust you were telling the truth, I do not often frequent places such as this." He looked around the Inn in disgust.

"I never lie Vicomte, that is one thing you can be certain of…I have some information that may be of great interest to you…" Raoul raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Please continue, Monsieur"

"It has come to my attention that you have been looking for your _old _fiancée, behind your brothers back…is this true Vicomte?" Bertrand sat back in his chair smugly.

"That is no business of yours…if you brought me here to blackmail me Bertrand, I'm afraid we have both had a wasted journey…" Raoul rose from his chair.

"I know where she is." Bertrand said haughtily. Raoul froze and slowly descended back into his chair.

"Where?" he asked suspiciously.

"Let me rephrase that…not where she is, rather _who_ she is with!" Raoul's eyes began to widen. "Do you know of any masked men?" The young Vicomte turned whiter than a virgin's wedding dress. All breath caught in his throat and he felt sick. He was not hearing these words. But as they sank in he suddenly became intensely suspicious. How did Bertrand know this? The phantom was dead. He was just a lingering nightmare that existed in his mind. Something was amiss here.

"Impossible…that man is dead." He said finally. "Did you see this apparition with your own eyes?" Bertrand narrowed his eyes into a scowl; this was not the answer he had been hoping for.

"No…I did not. But I can present you with witnesses that did. And you don't deny that this man has existed…I tell you Vicomte he is most alive" Raoul raised his chin.

"I do not believe you monsieur…I know that man is dead. You appear to have been the victim of a cruel joke" Raoul lied "I believe Christine to be away somewhere with her surrogate mother, Annette Giry. I plan to talk to her on her return to Paris. We still have many things to discuss. Then you can see for yourself that this has all been a terrible misunderstanding." He did believe Bertrand, but this truth had been his greatest fear. She was with _him, _she had left to be with him. The reasons for her running away were suddenly clear. She was still bewitched by the phantom's spell, whatever mysterious force he had over her still lingered. Bertrand said she was with him, but he did not say it was of her own will. And it was now the goal of the young Vicomte to find out where she was.

One thing that he was certain of was that he did not want Bertrand involved. There was something in the man's manner tonight that made Raoul uneasy. And while Philippe was content to trust this man, Raoul felt a growing suspicion that all was not as it seemed.

"Forgive me Bertrand for my abruptness this evening…it is not normally in my nature, but I'm sure you can appreciate my feelings on the subject of Christine…"

"There is nothing to forgive my friend, I only wish I had more information to give you, I appear to have been of very little use." Raoul shook his head in disagreement.

"You have been much more help than you realise…now if you will excuse me, I must be going…" The two men shook hands and Raoul rose to leave. He noted the way Bertrand seemed to be leering at the barmaid. She was bending over to clean up some broken glass. Bertrand once again averted his attention back to the Vicomte.

"I shall be meeting with your brother later in the week to discuss some _business_…perhaps I shall see you then Vicomte." Raoul nodded and strode from the Inn. He was armed with new information and a new resolve to find Christine. For better or for worse.

Bertrand sank back into the shadowy corner of the Inn. The Vicomte really was a naive young fool. Bertrand had seen many people lie over the years. His elder brother had been the master of lying to their father. He would feign wide eyed innocence and blame Edward for the trouble. What he did not realise was that his younger brother had been watching and mimicking. The art of deception was something Edward had excelled in over the years and he could see through the Vicomte's amateur performance. He was now more than certain that this mysterious masked man was the key to finding Christine. And he had a new name from her past to help him. The Vicomte's loose lips had been most helpful. It was time to pay a visit to Annette Giry.

XXXXX

Christine sat in Erik's armchair. This was the first evening in about a week that he had not joined her. She felt an intense urge to see him. Being with him allowed her to forget everything and feel the warm embrace of music once again. Sometimes as they sat by the fire she would take pleasure in the rhythmic sound of his breathing. His whole body seemed enveloped in a harmonious melody, something only the two of them could hear. She wondered how there could be so many sides to the same man. Once she had made her mind up about whom he was, he would only do something to confuse her more. They had become slightly closer in the last few days. There was an unspoken level of understanding between them. They were two wounded souls taking refuge in each others company. But the irony was they were responsible for wounding each other. And the more time they spent alone, the more she realised that company wasn't enough. She needed more.

Her mind travelled to the night in Beauvais, the night she had been attacked. The way Erik had killed that man with cold calculation. She realised that this man she longed to be with was a killer. There was so much darkness in him, like the hidden side of the moon. This was the same man who moments later had carried her back to the safety of his home and tended to her wounds. He was indeed a complicated and deep man. But he was a man she needed to explore further.

After waiting for another half an hour, Christine gave up and headed in the direction of her bedroom. She was both scared and exited to see Erik walking towards her. He was dressed in formal evening dress and his cloak fanned out behind him elegantly. It had been a long time since she had seen him like this; it was a reminder of how powerful he was. He squinted slightly as they came closer to each other but she could not tell if he was happy to see her.

"I…I was waiting for you…" she said motioning to the door of his study. He said nothing but narrowed his sharp eyes slightly. "…have you been out?" she asked with a hopeful half smile.

"I was not aware I had to report my every movement to you…" he said evenly. "You really shouldn't be in this part of the house when I'm not here!" Erik snapped. Christine lowered her hurt eyes to the floor feeling like she had been kicked. Erik suddenly felt a pang of guilt over his abruptness. "_Forgive me_…" he sighed with sincerity, "it has not been the most successful evening…I should not have shouted" Christine looked at him questioningly, just where had he been tonight? But given his mood it was a question she did not dare ask. There were a few moments of tense silence, neither sure of what to say next.

"Perhaps…you should go to bed my dear; I have some work to do." Christine felt a lump begin to scold her throat. The barriers had gone up again; the small door he had opened to her had slammed shut. How could she attempt to get closer to a man who denied himself human feeling? This person seemed like a complete stranger, not the strong man who had tenderly stroked her hair the night before. She simply nodded in agreement with him. There seemed to be no point in fighting with him tonight. She walked closer to him feeling a small amount of courage suddenly grab her. If he wanted her to go to bed, then she would give him a goodnight kiss. She stood on tiptoes and pressed her soft lips to his exposed cheek. Her other hand rested gracefully against his mask. She let her lips linger for a few moments and then pulled away slowly, looking into his astonished eyes as she shrank back to the floor. She couldn't help but smile at his glazed expression; she had never seen Erik look so shocked.

"Goodnight Erik." She whispered sweetly, before trotting off down the corridor, leaving him to stare after her in awe. Erik suddenly forgot all about his foul mood and the compositions he had been so eager to work on. Work seemed like such a tedious pastime after a moment like that. The night had been such a waste, he had been helping Nadir trawl through all correspondence he had kept from Bertrand's elder brother. They had been firm acquaintances when Nadir had arrived in France all those years ago. They had hoped the letters may reveal something about Edward's character. But each letter only brought more formal civility. And while this had allowed Nadir to reminisce, it had made Erik's frustration grow. He had wanted to learn something of Bertrand's past that he could expose. A weakness he could exploit to devastating effect. There were no lengths he would not go to; Bertrand would pay for what he had done to Christine. _Oh Christine, _he thought solemnly. He wanted to believe so much that she came to see him each night out of love. The love she had so sweetly and ardently declared. But his cynical mind believed it was all a ploy. So she could stay here safely until the boy came for her.

_They still think you are a fool. He must be involved in this somewhere! She could never love you the way she loved him! _His tortured mind raged at him like this every night after she retired to bed. In her presence nothing else mattered but the exquisite pulsing of his heart and soul. When he saw her he knew what it meant to love. He knew love in all its aching glory. He knew he would condemn his soul to hell for all eternity if she would be his wife for just a day. He would feel the warmth of a thousand fires in his heart. But when she was gone he allowed the dark to creep back into his mind. It seemed easy and familiar. Hate seemed an easier emotion to process than love, anger was again his eternal ally.

_Isn't it time to let go of your anger… _A voice echoed from somewhere in his mind _…do_ _you really want a lifetime of aching loneliness?_

XXXXX

Christine walked slowly back to her room. She loved her room but it was beginning to feel like a vessel of isolation. A place her body retired to at the end of the night while her heart stayed in the East Wing. Sometimes she would spend all day looking of the window or writing memoirs of her private emotions. This was the first place she had felt safe in a long time, since she was young. Every other home had been tainted by memories, angels and death. But then she realised with saddening resolve that this house wasn't her home. It was Erik's home, and he could ask her to leave at any time. And given his unpredictable moods of late, nothing would surprise her.

Two strong hands emerged from the shadow and spun her round. Christine did not have the time to get her bearings before familiar lips came crashing down on her own. Her body became engulfed in a rhythmic wave of pleasure. The hands were now at her waist pulling her hips to his. As the kiss deepened she allowed her mouth to open inviting his tongue to explore the sweet crevices of her mouth. Her hands clung desperately to the sleeves of his jacket. He pulled his mouth away from hers and began to trace small kisses along her jaw line, stopping at her ear.

"I did not have the chance to return your goodnight kiss…" Erik whispered into her ear. The whisper caused her body to convulse. Exited shakes made their way through her body, using her veins as passageways to her soul. She let her head fall into his neck.

"Please…don't stop…" she panted, needing this euphoria to continue. Erik took her flowing curls in his hands and let them glide through his fingers. Christine sighed and closed her eyes. When she opened them her eyes met his. They shared a moment of pure devotion. Both believing they would wake from this dream at any cruel moment, buried feelings were resurrected and they could no longer deny their mutual urge.

"Erik…" she whimpered. He kissed her again softly, and his tongue once again found her mouth. Christine wanted to melt into his body completely, to be one in more ways than she could imagine. She pushed her body forward into his, an action that caused a pleasurable moan to escape from the back of his throat. She felt her back hit the wall as Erik picked her up, she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist and ran her fingers through his thick ebony hair. They kissed with an urgent hunger, both believing the other could disappear at any moment. Christine could not believe this was happening. She had secretly given up all hope that he would ever be kissing her like this. She needed this; she needed to feel his skin against hers and the sweet juices of their mouths mingling. He scared her, both because of who he was and how much she loved him. It was a love that had been born of both light and dark emotion. Their lips parted and she began to cover his neck in hot and urgent kisses, Erik let his head fall to the side inviting her in further.

He let his mind journey to the beautiful creature in his arms. She was so passionate and so beautiful, and so pure. One of God's truly pure creatures, it seemed wrong that he should have her like this. Although their souls had always been fused together they had not been joined under the gaze of God. He had always been blind to the morals of his own conscience. But in a moment of clarity he wondered if he could ruin her virtue in such a way. He desired her more than eternity and he wanted nothing more than to loose himself in the sweet curves of her body. But he had vowed to kill Bertrand for what he had wanted to do to Christine, would be any better if he took her now? He wanted her for the rest of his life, not just in a moment of confused passion. But would she agree to end her days with a deformed monster?

Christine lifted her head from his neck, seeking out his lips once again. He kissed her softly, taking control of the situation. He slowly pulled his lips away and set her back to the floor, his arms still wrapped around her tightly. He rested his forehead against hers with his eyes closed trying desperately to calm his aroused state. He suddenly heard the quiet sound of her sobs. He opened his eyes and looked down into her confused brown orbs.

"…You'll never…forgive me – will you?" she sobbed. Erik frowned and let an aggravated sigh escape.

"Please Christine, you know I cannot bear to see you cry." He tilted her chin up with his fingertips. "…you are worth more than this Mon ange; I can take nothing from you until you are mine completely…"

"But I am yours! Erik – I have been yours since I arrived at the opera house all those years ago…I only wish I had realised it sooner…" he silenced her with a finger to her lips. Then he wiped the tears from her face.

"…let me do one thing right Christine…" he whispered into her hair. Then he was gone, disappearing into the shadows as mysteriously as he had arrived.

Christine rested against the wall for a few moments; her breaths were heavy and ragged. Her body still tingled with the desire she had been denied. She made her way back to her room in a hypnotised state. She entered the room and scrambled under the covers. She sought the comfort of a pillow in which hide her face away from the world. She wept into the silk choking on her own tears. Her heart and body wanting him to return and claim her, but her mind raged in anger at the way he had left. _Let me do one thing right…_ the words pulsated through her head, what had he meant? Was it that he would never allow himself to love her with his body? Did he not think they were meant to be together? _If only you knew that I want you with every inch of my body and soul. I don't care if it's right or wrong I need you Erik…_her sobs calmed and her body began to rest. Blank sleep claimed her mind. That night she was denied the escape of dreams, it seemed her body had exceeded in its limit of pleasure. But desire still flowed through her body, all the way down to her tiptoes.

Erik stepped into her room silently; he lay down next to her and wrapped his arms around her delicate body. Resting the red rose on her pillow, he sang into her ear. He sang a secret song that she could only hear in slumber. He closed his eyes and allowed himself a few hours of peaceful sleep. Knowing the morning would come soon enough. The morning would be a time when his fate would be decided, once and for all.

XXXXX

Morning twinkled through the drapes and Christine opened her eyes wearily. Confused by the daylight, when in her mind it was still night. She rose onto her elbows and saw a perfect red rose resting on her pillow. She sat up and reached for the note that lay beside it; her name was written immaculately on the front of the envelope. She opened it and pulled out the small piece of parchment; on it three words were written.

_Think of it…_

She frowned at the ambiguity of the words. _What can he mean?_ She picked up the rose and examined it. It was like all the others she had received flawless red petals with a long green stem. The black ribbon was a symbol of her dark union with a man of the night. She knew that the scarlet passion they had for each other was deeper than the blood red of the rose. As she studied the rose further she found a shining ring amerced in the confines of the ribbon, a glowing gold band with a shimmering red ruby in the centre. The rose held the ring in a fierce embrace, the symbol of a helpless devotion and an eternal promise. One question to answer…

The pleading words of the note stared up at her… _Think of it. _

Moments later the ring rested on her small finger.

XXXXX


	13. The Face You Can't Forget

AN: Hope you like this chapter.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

Chapter 13: The Face You Can't Forget.

Agatha Farnsworth strode the halls of Fairmont House. She had only just returned and felt determined to make her presence felt. The girls had become wayward under the supervision of Bertrand and order needed to be restored. Her sharp heels clashed with the wooden floor and sharp thuds echoed off the walls. She had spent the last month locked away. She had been going silently mad over the memory of that night and the memory of that man. How she wished that Nicolette had left that girl to die on the streets. She wanted to forget the memory of that mask.

The vision of him still haunted her, mainly in her dreams. The pure venom of that beautiful voice and the hate those deep eyes still penetrated her mind. She needed to keep busy for whenever stopped it was as if he was behind her. Like a dark nightmare lingering in the darkest parts of her memory. His voice echoed in her mind. He had admitted that he was a murderer and a thief but it was his powerful presence that had scared her the most. She had met the king of darkness – and he had lived up to her every expectation.

She had slapped three girls this evening and her hand still tingled from the sensation of colliding with innocent flesh. She had taken in some new girls, girls that did not yet appreciate the opportunity they had been given. She was very clear about the type of girls she would take in. She always needed to find a weakness. One she could expose and use to break their will and innocence. The innocence she corrupted by making them sleep with endless men. She distorted the beauty of youth every time she took another girl under her roof. To Agatha Farnsworth virtue was a weakness, and it would not be accepted.

She made her way to her office hoping that she had not received more correspondence from Bertrand. He was obsessed with finding Miss Daae and she wanted nothing to do with it. That girl had caused too much trouble and deserved to stay with the masked monster. Christine did certainly seem to have a hold over that man. A man she presumed to have no soul looked as though he would perish of love for the young brunette. Agatha entered the room and closed the door firmly. All of the lamps had gone out, not the way she had left the room earlier.

"That useless lump!" she shouted to herself. "Sidney! I told you not to enter my office…" But Sidney did not answer. And as she re-lit the lamps she saw the haunting face from her nightmares smirking back at her. Fear crippled her voice and she suddenly realised these could be the last few moments of her life.

"Good evening Madame," He said with the grace of a high society gentleman. "Shall we…" he hissed as he motioned to the chairs at either side of her desk. She did the sensible thing and sat down without argument.

"You are much less vocal than the last time we met…" He said as he sat in her chair behind the desk.

"What do you want" She replied finding her voice at last. Erik smiled inwardly at her complete fear. He was going to enjoy every moment of this.

"Don't worry Madame this is not a social visit. You are going to help me…" Agatha raised her eyebrows questioningly. She needed to try and be strong; her fear would only serve to make him more menacing.

"So you have not come back to kill me!" She said trying to sound stern. Erik smirked wickedly.

"Not yet…" He said dryly "You may have some information that I need…you are of some use to me still" He rose from the chair and began to stalk around the room. His black cloak enveloped his strong frame and fanned out behind him as he walked. Agatha noticed that he moved with the grace of a king, and spoke with the arrogance of one. She knew she would not dare deny any request he had for her. But she would try to resist telling him straight away. She did not owe him a thing.

"Tell me of Edward Bertrand…" He commanded softly.

"I do not know much Monsieur…" She stuttered.

"Wrong answer…" Erik hissed from somewhere in the room. She could not sense where he was and it made her nervous. "…you freely admitted that he is a _client _of yours. I do not believe you would sacrifice the freedom of a girl without knowing something of his character."

He suddenly pulled her chair back so the front legs came off the floor. Agatha squealed and gripped onto the arms of the chair. "Now tell me _everything!_" she stared up into his eyes. They were alight with green wrath, and she knew he would not be fooled by lies.

"Aright…" she said through panicked breaths "…I will tell you…" Erik lowered the chair back to the floor; Agatha tried to level her breathing.

"He...he is a rich man…a very rich man, with a troubled past. From what I can gather he did not have a very good relationship with his father, he blames him for his mother's death." Erik raised his visible eyebrow.

"Continue." He said evenly.

"He loved his mother very much; I think she is the only person he has ever loved, until he met…" Agatha bit down on her tongue, Erik remained silent for a few moments. "…he is also a powerful man. When he wants something…he usually gets it." She noticed the masked mans jaw begin to tighten. She knew she had said something wrong; anger was an emotion she did not want to arouse in this man.

"It appears you know more than you admit to," Erik said menacingly. "There is something else I need you to do for me Madame. I have left clear instructions in a note in your desk drawer…" Agatha paled, that drawer was locked and she kept the only key on a chain around her neck. She could see the masked man smirking at her bewilderment. She was suddenly very angry, and remembered this man's weakness. He wasn't the only one who could have a bit of fun.

"How is Miss Daae? You should have brought her along monsieur…she and I could have reminisced!" She said in a mocking tone. Erik whirled around to face her. Within moments his gloved hands were clasped at her throat.

"I told you what would happen if you _ever _came near her again…" Agatha was beginning to choke "…I know everything Madame, so I advise you to follow my instructions exactly. Next time I will not pull you back over that balcony…_accidents _can happen everyday Madame - never forget that!" he released her and strode towards the door. Agatha was trying desperately to catch her breath. A knew hate burning inside her.

"Have a pleasant evening Madame…Sleep well…" Erik called over his shoulder before merging with the shadows of the corridor. Agatha did not yet know what he had planned for her – but she knew her life would certainly be at an end if she did not obey.

XXXXX

Nadir arrived at the House on the Hill in a state of hypnosis. He needed to talk to Erik; the masked man was becoming obsessed with finding Edward Bertrand. He planned on executing upon him the most painful death imaginable. And although Nadir wanted to find the man as much as Erik did, he was scared that hate would be the un-doing of his friend. He entered the house and was greeted by the sunny face of Christine running towards him. Her face fell slightly when she realised he was alone.

"How lovely to see you Monsieur Khan!" she said brightly "Is Erik not with you?" Nadir shook his head. "I've been looking for him all day…" she sighed sadly. Nadir noticed a change in her, she seemed so content. Like she had a secret she did not want to share with the world.

"You look most lovely this evening my dear." Nadir said sincerely, Christine blushed she had purposefully picked out her best dress to wear today. "Am I correct in assuming that Erik is not at home?" she shook her head sadly.

"No…he has not been here all day, I assumed he was with you. I've looked everywhere." She suddenly looked concerned. "Do you think he is alright?" Nadir gave a short laugh.

"Oh of course my dear, this is Erik we're talking about…it's the safety of others we should concern ourselves with!" Christine could not hide her smile. Nadir was looking over her shoulder. "Ah! Speak of the devil…" Christine turned around slowly to see Erik standing not far from them.

"And the devil doth appear…" Erik replied. Nadir and Christine were taken aback by the scorn in his tone. He could not ignore the way Christine was looking at him. Was it pity or devotion? He had not been in the house all day because he could not face the sting of her rejection. Until he knew her answer he would act indifferently to her presence. She seemed to notice and looked unusually sad.  
"What brings you here at this time of night Daroga?" he said curiously.

"I need to talk to you Erik…" both men looked at Christine who felt it was her cue to leave. Yet she could not take her eyes off Erik. He was her fiancé now, even though he didn't know it yet. All she wanted to do was to run into his arms and tell him that she had accepted. She could not make her feet move and stayed statuesque in her spot. Nadir could sense the anticipation that hovered in the air around them.

"On second thought – it can wait until the morning. The journey here has taken its toll. If you will both excuse me I shall retire to my room..."

"Make yourself at home Daroga." Erik said sarcastically. Nadir nodded to them both and made his way towards the stairs. He did not know what was going on between the two of them but it needed to be resolved. Shouting at Erik could wait until sunrise.

Christine and Erik stared at each other for a few long moments. Erik felt as though his heart would shoot out of his chest. She had never looked so lovely, this only served to make her rejection worse. But why was she smiling at him like that? She was walking towards him slowly now, her eyes never leaving his. The man who had just spent the evening putting the fear of God into Agatha Farnsworth was now reduced to feeling like a small boy. This girl held his entire fate in her small hands. She was looking at him with such emotion that he realised that she was nervous to. Her left hand was cupped in her right hand and she was staring down at her finger. Where the ring he had given to her had found a new home. But this time she did not pull the ring from her hand. She reached out and laid it against his chest. The deep red ruby shone in the candlelight.

"Yes…" she whispered sweetly. "…I want to be your wife Erik." She had never seen him look so completely shocked. He could not find his voice and stared how at her in confusion. She wrapped both arms around his waist and buried her face in his silk cravat. "I love you…" she whispered into the fabric. She pulled away slowly and looked up at him again. "Erik?" she whispered questioningly. But he would not answer. No words would express the magnitude of his emotions. He picked her up effortlessly and began to carry her to the East Wing. Christine let her head rest against his strong shoulder. Her heart fluttered as she realised this powerful man would soon be hers forever. When they reached his room Erik sat down on the chaise, with Christine still in his arms. He leaned back and she made herself comfortable in his lap. She felt his arms tighten around her, and she suspected that even if she wanted to get up he would not let go of her tonight. He kissed the top of her head. It caused a flutter of butterflies to make their way through her stomach.

"Thank you…" he whispered into her curls.

"Where have you been all day?" She asked with inquisitiveness. "I have been looking for you since sunrise…I can't believe I have been your fiancé for an entire day and you didn't even know it!" she laughed into his chest. A sound that melted his heart, he held onto her a bit more tightly.

"Where did you go Erik?" she asked again, sitting up in his lap to look him in the eye. Erik let his fingers roam through her hair.

"I had some important business to attend to. Nothing you need to concern yourself with." He said slowly. His tone warned her not to question him. Christine nodded slowly, she did not believe him. There was something ominous in his manner tonight, like after the night in Beauvais. But although this was something she would peruse, nothing would ruin tonight for her. She was in the arms of the man she loved. Questioning him about his mysterious behaviour could wait. She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips softly. He responded instantly deepening the kiss. She felt his hands begin to wander across her body. She responded by pulling her body closer to his and letting her hands glide up his neck into his hair. Before she knew it her body was covered by his and she instinctively began to tug at his jacket. She needed to be closer to him; clothing was a barrier blocking their intense connection. Erik's hand found her skirts and began to travel up her leg. They both stopped at the same moment realising how far their passion was about to take them. Erik sat up promptly and pulled Christine back into his lap.

"Forgive me Christine…" he sighed raggedly. She stared at him lovingly and began to stroke his exposed cheek.

"Don't apologise Erik, I need you as much as you need me…" Erik looked her directly in the eye.

"I doubt that my dear." He said softly, his desire still pumping through his veins.

"But I don't think we should…" Her cheeks began to redden "…until we are married…" Erik smiled at her embarrassment and nodded slowly.

"Of course Mon ange…I could never ask that of you…" he looked at her lovely face, her lips were swollen from his kisses and her cheeks flushed a deep crimson. He desired her more than anything else on this earth. But he knew it would mean more when she was his and his alone.

"Where shall we marry?" Christine asked suddenly, her voice taking on an exited edge "I saw the most beautiful church on the way to Beauvais…it was small and modest, but so charming! Oh it was perfect…What do you think Erik?" Erik's face suddenly fell he looked as though all of his dreams had been destroyed by a shard of lightening. He moved Christine from his lap and stood up and stalked over to the window. Christine stared after him in confusion. Had she said something wrong? Why didn't he want to talk about the wedding? She opened her mouth to speak but then closed it again. She was unsure of what to say to his sudden change in mood. She climbed off the chaise and tiptoed over to stand behind him.

"_Erik?" _she whispered.

"I have been such a fool." Erik said with a distant sadness. "…the life you want…the life you deserve…is something I can never give you." Christine felt a lump forming in her throat.

"Please Erik, don't say such things."

"I cannot marry you in the sunlight! Or in the beauty of a church surrounded by your friends and family, have you forgotten who I was Christine! _Who I still am_!" she began to stroke his back with her small hands trying to calm his building anger. His muscles were tightened into rock.

"I should not have done this…" he whispered "I will never be the husband you deserve Christine. I am not like the men of high society, there are things we will never be able to do…"

"I know." She said walking around him so they were face to face. "I already know that Erik. And I don't mind…I just want to be your wife." He looked down at her sadly.

"You may have to wait a long time my dear, it will be a long time before I am welcomed back into any house of God." Christine felt her chin begin to wobble.

"T-there must be a-a way…" she sobbed as tears fell down her pale cheeks.

"Forgive me, I should never have asked this of you" he said slowly "You can sleep in here tonight Mon Ange…I will see you tomorrow" he brushed his fingertips along her cheek and turned to leave.

"No, Erik wait…you can't leave me like this…" Erik stopped walking but would not turn to face her. He knew if he did he would never be able to leave her side, and he did not deserve to spend the night next to her.

"Goodnight Christine." He said firmly before slamming the door behind him. Christine ran to the bed and threw herself onto the silk covers, weeping uncontrollably. When would he realise she didn't want a normal life, or a life of high society privilege. She had been allowed a small taste of that life when she was with Raoul, and the bitter taste still lingered. She wanted the life of music and passion that she could only find with him. Nothing else mattered now, but Erik could not see that. She cried into the soft fabric feeling more uncertain of her future than she ever had before.

XXXXX

Nadir made his way to Erik's office at the first crack of daylight. He hadn't been able to sleep and knew his nocturnal friend would be awake. He entered expecting to find Erik sitting at his desk engrossed in work like he normally was. But this morning the room was dusk and dark. It seemed stuck somewhere in between the transition night and day.

"Erik? Are you in here my boy?" Nadir called in to the dark.

"Go away Daroga." Came a harsh reply from somewhere in the dim room. Nadir strode into the room and pulled the drapes open. Erik was slumped into a corner with an empty bottle of brandy at his side. He recoiled at the intrusion of daylight like a bat of the night.

"Did you not hear me? Get – out!" He said the words slowly but they were laced with warning.

"No." Nadir said, standing tall. "I will not leave Erik. I have come all the way from Paris to speak to you and you will listen!" Erik simply grunted and turned his face away from his only friend.

"Look at the state of you! Allah! What would Christine think if she could see you?" Erik scowled at Nadir from under his mask. .

"Have you just come to lecture me Daroga?" he said picking up the empty bottle "Because if you have I may need another bottle!"

"Oh…please Erik, this self pity must stop, you need to pull yourself together my boy!"

Erik was silent he knew his friend was right but he would sooner die than back down.

"Erik I'm here because I have some information about our friend Edward Bertrand…" Erik's attention was suddenly raised. "He is throwing some kind of Masquerade party to celebrate the building of his new home…" Nadir couldn't help but notice the way Erik began to smirk at this information.

"I think its his way of finding a new wife…I have managed to track down an old acquaintance of his brother, apparently there is some money that his father put away for him…a large amount of money. Only accessible to him once he is married." Erik seemed to sober in an instant and rose from the floor.

"That would explain much of his behaviour…" Erik mused.

"Indeed, but what's more interesting Erik is that he has only just learned this information himself…he wasn't aware of it when…"

"When he was in pursuit of Christine…" Erik finished. He felt a new angst begin to eat at his heart.

"Exactly – we need to keep a close eye on her. He will be more determined to find her now…" Nadir said grimly. Erik sank into an armchair slowly.

"Christine should not leave the house Erik – it's not safe, I plan to attend this masked ball. We need to keep a close eye on Bertrand" Erik looked up thoughtfully a familiar glint in his eye.

"And I intend to accompany you…" Nadir looked at him in horror.

"Are you out of your mind?"

"Quite sane actually Daroga, it seems a BAL Masque is the perfect place to acquaint myself with Monsieur Bertrand." Nadir shook his head wondering if it had been wise to share this information with Erik.

"If you don't mind my asking Erik…what was wrong with Christine yesterday, she seemed almost agitated…" Erik looked at the floor.

"I proposed." He said sadly. Nadir was felt as though he would fall over with shock.

"You…proposed…marriage…" he said in disbelief. Erik looked at him sharply. "And she declined?"

"She accepted actually…if it's at all possible to believe" Nadir's mouth was at the floor.

"Sorry my boy, but given your current state how was I to think otherwise! Why are you not happy?"

"Because I woke up Daroga, I was a fool to ever consider such an idea! I cannot marry her and deny her the life she has grown up to expect. No matter how much I want to I can't keep her locked away in this house forever, now it has come to it I cannot condemn her to my fate…" Nadir threw up his hands impatiently.

"Allah! Will you ever shut the door on your foolish pride and self pity! That girl loves you Erik…and you don't give her the respect to let her make her own decisions! I know you want to protect her from everything from the suffering you have had to endure. But you will soon destroy the happiness of both of you…"

"And where are we supposed to marry Daroga! Do you expect the local priest to welcome the masked monster in with open arms?" Erik snapped irritably. There was a tense silence as both men reflected on each others words.

"My father was a Persian priest…he would perform beautiful ceremonies for the people of the court, he was not pleased when I chose not to follow in his divine footsteps."

"That is a very _touching_ story Daroga – but I fail to see how…"

"I may not be able to give Christine the Catholic ceremony she wants…but I know enough to give a blessing to two people in love." Erik was suddenly overcome with an emotion he had never felt before.

"You…would do that…for me?" He whispered in astonishment.

"Of course I would my friend" the two men stood and shared a moment of understanding. Nadir's simple gesture of kindness showed Erik the true meaning of compassion. He felt his hard heart swell a little.

"Thank you – this means more than you will ever know." He said, his voice was low and cool. Nadir nodded and patted his friend on his hard shoulder.

"Where is your beautiful fiancée? We should tell her the good news! And I need to give her some hints on handling your temper! Shall we?" Nadir cheered gesturing to the door. Erik let out a sigh.

"I think I should go alone Daroga…I have amends to make." Nadir shook his head with a soft chuckle.

"Arguing already eh! At least the two of you will not lead a dull life together!"

Erik sighed "In all honesty Daroga, with all that has happened to me sometimes there is nothing more appealing that the soft call of a dull life…" he made his way to the door.

"I'd clean yourself up before you try to find her…you stink of brandy!" Nadir heckled.

"Very amusing Daroga - isn't it time you were leaving!" Erik called over his shoulder. Nadir had to smile to himself; he knew Erik concealed his genuine emotion with his sardonic wit. He had seen a softer side to his friend today and although it lay deeply embedded in his soul, it was a comfort to know it was there.

XXXXX

Christine walked the gardens for the second time that morning. The frosty winter chill pinched at her nose and cheeks. Her lips felt cold and longed to be warmed by the warmth of a soft kiss. She was angry with Erik she wanted to be his wife so much that she could feel the ache in her heart. Why was he such an impossible man? She did not even know if they were engaged anymore. He had left so abruptly with no comforting words of what the future held for them. He had promised her the world and taken it away all in the same evening. And although her heart still burned with love for him, a small part of her could not forgive him…

"Hello Christine…"

A familiar voice called form behind her. She lost all trace of thought and suddenly had to concentrate on breathing. All the small hairs on her neck and arms stood on end as she turned around slowly to confront the past. And the face of her childhood sweetheart.

"Raoul…" she whispered into the winter air, looking at him as though he were a ghost. There was no hate in his eyes, no deep loathing like she had expected. Only a distant hollow sadness, which her eyes reciprocated.

"Were you ever going to tell me the reasons why?" he said with small tears rimming his eyes. "…I deserved more than a letter Christine; _we were going to get married!_" Christine lowered her ashamed eyes to the floor.

"I know - I'm so sorry Raoul…" she sobbed "…I'm so sorry – I did not want to hurt you!" part of him wanted to comfort and protect her like he had so many times in the past. But she had wounded him so deeply; it was her turn to cry alone in the cold.

"I should hate you…" he said sadly "That's all you deserve." Christine could still not bring herself to look at him. Her tears fell neatly onto the frosty path.

"I don't blame you…I deserve your hate, but please know I did not mean any of this to happen – it seemed like the only way!" Raoul shook his confused head.

"Why! Why was it the only way? We were happy…we had a future to look forward to. We had the rest of our lives together!"

"Did we?" Christine whispered as a tear strolled down her pale cheek. "We were never the same after that last night at the opera house. That night changed both of us…"

"It didn't change my love for you…I loved you so much Christine, why wasn't it enough?" Christine remained silent, and Raoul knew the answer already. For it was the reason he had found her here at this mysterious house.

"I felt trapped…I was suffocating, not because of you but because of everything. It was all so out of my control…I did the only thing I could to get it back. It doesn't mean that I didn't have feelings for you, because I do. You are my friend and my family…but that life isn't me Raoul. It never was…" she felt herself lie. She could not bring herself to tell him about Bertrand, he would feel like he had failed in his duty to protect her. And she was secretly ashamed of being the object of Edward Bertrand's affections.

"You have changed…" Raoul sighed "How could I not have seen it before, you have grown up Christine. We both have."

Christine met the eyes of her childhood friend. The eternal innocence that bound them together had slowly begun to sever. Their relationship had been like a long piece of elastic. Making them meet when they were young and then pulling them away from each other. Only to come colliding back together at the opera house when they were both in need of comfort. Now that elastic bond had turned to string, there was nothing pulling their different worlds back together. The desires and choices of adulthood had broken the bonds of youth. In his heart Raoul finally understood. It was not just Christine that had changed, he had to. And he could no longer be her knight in shining armour. It was time for him to live for himself. They took a few steps closer to each other and shared a silent moment of farewell.

"I am sorry Raoul." Christine said. Raoul smiled; somehow he could not be angry with her.

"Please Christine, no more apologies…" he placed his hand on her shoulder. "…I only hope you know what you're doing…don't forget what that…man…is capable of" Christine suddenly felt a wash of panic drown her. The shock seeing Raoul had made her forget where they were, and who she was now engaged to. Erik could not find Raoul at his home.

"How did you find me? How did you find this house?" Christine asked in confusion.

"I found out Monsieur Khan was an acquaintance of…_him_…I followed his manservant here this morning…I had to see you Christine, I needed to know…" Christine's heart began to plummet.

"You must leave…now!" she said as she pushed him along the path "He cannot know you are here! He just can't!"

"To late my dear," A stony voice called from behind her. She looked up at Raoul who had turned a new shade of white. He really was looking into the eyes of a ghost.

"Here we all are again…" Erik said sarcastically, the coldness in his tone made Christine shiver. "But this time, it is me she is engaged to…quite ironic isn't it Vicomte." Raoul was now looking at Christine in shock.

"Engaged…to…to him!" he stared down at her in horror. Christine nodded dumbly and looked at the floor. She was too afraid to turn around and look at Erik. She could already feel his eyes scolding her back. She could hear his approaching footsteps in time with the thudding of her heart. Erik now stood directly behind her like a dark shadow.

"Leave now monsieur before I do something I have wanted to do for a long time…" Erik hissed. Christine was looking up at Raoul with pleading eyes hoping he would do as Erik said. She did not want harm to come to either of them. Raoul seemed to ignore Erik for a moment and looked at Christine.

"You don't have to stay here Christine, come with me…I won't leave you here if you are not happy…" Christine could almost hear the muscles in Erik's body begin to tighten. She felt him reach for his rapier. She reached backwards and caught his hand in her own.

"I am happy Raoul, this is where I belong." She said genuinely. Raoul didn't know who seemed more shocked himself or the Phantom. Raoul shook his head, he still couldn't believe her. But at least he knew she was safe. This monster would not harm her. He would see her again, but he knew nothing more could be accomplished from this visit.

"Farewell Christine," he said sadly "I hope this is not the last time we meet." He turned and walked away from the house slowly, leaving his dearest friend in the care of a killer.

Christine and Erik watched him go, unsure of what to say to each other next. Christine prepared herself for Erik's wrath. But when she turned to face him there was only astonishment glowing in his green eyes.

"You – didn't leave…" Erik said unbelievingly "You didn't leave me." Christine shook her head and reached up to touch his cheek.

"Of course I didn't leave…" she sobbed "I would never leave you, not now…not after this" she held out her left hand where his ring rested proudly on her finger. Erik pulled her close and rested his head atop of hers. He was more determined now to make her his forever. It had taken every ounce of his fragile self control not to rip that blasted boy's head from his shoulders. And had it not been for Christine, he knew he would have. His heart found a new firm resolve. The first was to marry his beloved Christine. She was the sole purpose for his every waking moment and he would love her in every possible way. The second was to exact his perfect revenge on Bertrand. The time was coming, he could feel it. Like the way you can taste a storm before it strikes.

Fate awaited him at Bertrand's masquerade ball.


	14. Never Far Behind

AN: This chapter takes place a few weeks after the last one…

Chapter 14: Never Far Behind.

The fragile figure ran towards the looming house in the distance. Her feet ached and her shoes tore at her heels. Each step ripped more skin from her tormented ankles. Hard shards of rain pelted her exhausted body and impaired her already weak vision. Her destination seemed eternally out of reach. With every step she took towards it, it seemed to take a million back. In truth she feared what awaited her as much as she feared what could be following her, but she knew this was the only man who could help. And the only man who was likely to make her wish she had never been born.

XXXXX

_One week__ earlier…_

Christine stared out onto the beautiful rose gardens. It was winter and all the trees were bare but in her mind she could make them beautiful. In her mind she could make it an eternal spring. She could imagine waking up in the sunlight and reaching out for her mysterious man. She could already feel the entwining of their limbs and the soft caress of skin on skin. She could already taste the life that awaited her and already sense the warmth and the passion…

"Are you somewhere nice?" a silky voice whispered into her ear as two strong arms circled around her small waist. She leaned back and rested her head against his shoulder.

"Yes…" she whispered with a private giggle to herself.

"Are you going to tell me where you were?" Erik said planting a soft kiss to her cheek. Christine raised an eyebrow and whirled around in his arms to face him.

"I was not aware we had to share everything…"

"You will once we're married." he said almost playfully. Christine giggled and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. Erik smiled into her kiss and felt his heart melt into hers. He pulled away from her slowly his eyes suddenly serious.

"There is another reason I came to find you Mon Ange…"

"Yes I wanted to speak with you to…" she interrupted almost nervously. Erik was stroking her cheek tenderly.

"I wish to go into the town later…perhaps after lunch; I was thinking maybe Darius or Nicole could accompany me…" She could not ignore the growing frown on Erik's face.

"Absolutely not." he said firmly.

"But…Erik…"

"You will not go anywhere! Not at the moment…"

"Erik your being unreasonable… you can't keep me locked away. I only want to go into the town for a few hours" she said in disbelief.

"Have you forgotten what happened last time you wondered into Beauvais Christine?" Erik snapped sarcastically as he walked away from her and began to pace around the room. "No – I cannot risk that happening again."

"_You_ cannot risk it…" Christine said, her anger beginning to rise. "I am not one of your servants that you can tell what to do Erik! I am capable of making my own decisions!"

"Yes very bad ones…" he scoffed "this is not a discussion Christine. You are not going. It's final!"

"This is not final or fair! Erik you are being completely irrational! I won't be alone, I'll be safe" Erik stopped pacing and turned to face her.

"Why are you so desperate to go to town today Christine? Do you have another secret liaison planned with the Fop?" he spat venomously. Christine could feel a lump rising in her throat.

"How many times do we have to go through this Erik, I did not know he was here…why can't you believe me? He won't come back here again…"

"I know he won't. If he does it'll be the last journey he ever makes!" Christine shook her head sadly.

"We can't keep having this same fight Erik. I love you, not Raoul." She reached out to touch his tense back. She wanted to smooth away the tension in his muscles. The very mention of Raoul seemed to cause him to cease up. Erik turned round slowly and pulled her into his arms. Feeling suddenly guilty at how harsh he must seem. She really had changed since the days at the opera house. She was no longer completely content to let him be in control. This new Christine was stronger and proving to be just as stubborn as he was.

"Forgive me…" he whispered into her hair. She pulled away from their embrace and looked at him.

"I know you worry, but really I'll be fine. Shall I ask Darius to go with me?" Erik narrowed his eyes again.

"I said no Christine! Believe me, I do this for your own safety" Christine's eyes lit up with fury.

"No, not my safety Erik…you do this so that you are in control. Like you always are! You have no right to deny me the small amount of freedom I ask for. Why is everything so difficult with you?" Erik was scowling at her.

"So, you wish to be free of me already! Is my home really such a prison to you?" his tone was laced with anger. Christine could feel the tears running down her cheeks. It was more because this was clearly still his home and not _their _home. Why could he never listen? Everything was a conspiracy to him; he could never seem to let himself trust her.

"Why are you so impossible?" she sobbed before turning and running away. Erik could feel his anger reach boiling point.

"DO NOT DISOBEY ME CHRISTINE!" he yelled after her in a blind rage. Images of the Vicomte touching her arm ran through his mind. He could hear her sobs echoing off the walls and it seemed to calm his hungry anger. He sank to his knees and tried to calm his rage. Why couldn't she see that he was only trying to do what was best for her? He loved her so much that it often clouded his judgement. But it was truly not safe for her out there. Not while Bertrand was still on the prowl. From what he had learned about Edward Bertrand so far, it was clear he was a clever man. He could not risk losing her again, not ever. He knew it would destroy his fragile heart for good. He would not risk her life or safety for anything. Even if it meant she hated him for a while. He knew his overprotective nature threatened to drive her away. They were so close to being together forever and it seemed fate had plans to keep them apart. But his temper had always been his biggest enemy. He felt angry that he had to stop her going where she wanted. More so because he was unable to accompany her, his dark past was once again ruining their future.

He rose from the floor and began his search for Christine. She was fast and could be anywhere in the house by now. There were things he needed to tell her to, that was the reason he had sought her out this morning. He turned a corner and came face to face with Darius. The young boy froze like a startled dear.

"Have you seen Christine?" Erik asked abruptly. His tone was stony and cold, _so that explains her tears and the way she ran past me without a word…_ Darius thought to himself.

"She…she ran towards the library just a moment ago. She seemed rather distressed." Erik scowled at him and began to march towards the library. Darius felt a sudden relief at being out of the masked man's terrifying company.

Erik entered the library and scanned the room. A small figure was crouched in the corner, with her knees pulled up to her chest and her head buried in her arms. Erik walked over to her quietly and sat beside her.

"I'm sorry Christine." He said tenderly. She peeled her head away from her arms and looked at him through tear soaked eyelashes.

"_Why do we always have to fight Erik_…?" She sobbed. Erik began to stroke her soft brown curls.

"I want to protect you Christine; in any way I can…please try to understand that."

"Protect me from what? Its ok Erik, I know I'm safe here. I know nobody can hurt me when I'm with you…" Erik sighed. He did not want to tell her about Bertrand she would simply worry too much. He was willing to be scared for both of them.

"Please just trust me Christine, it is not safe out there." Christine frowned with confusion.

"But I was only asking to go into the town for a few hours…not walk the streets alone at night."

"Very well…" Erik sighed "You may go. But make sure Nicole and Marcus accompany you and do not be alone at any time…I will make sure they know what is expected of them." Christine smiled and threw her arms around neck.

"Thank you Erik this means a lot to me!"

"And _you_ mean a lot to me Christine. Promise me you will not be alone at any time…"  
"I promise." She smiled as he pulled her into his lap. "Does this mean I'll always get my own way?" she giggled. Erik looked down at her with a grin across his face.

"No…" he said wickedly before kissing her passionately. Christine felt all her anger dissolve and her desire begin to grow. She truly couldn't wait until this man was hers forever. He rose from the floor with Christine in his arms.

"Now, I need to find Marcus. He and I need to have a little chat…"

XXXXX

Fresh winter air filled the carriage as the three companions made their way to Beauvais. Nicole had been feeling ill so Christine and Marcus were joined by the pleasant face of Nadir Khan. This had pleased Erik more, and both Nadir and Marcus had firm instructions not to let Christine out of sight. '_If anything happens to her you shall witness the dark side of my anger!' _Erik had raged. And while Marcus had thought his master's behaviour overdramatic, Nadir understood his apprehension. Erik had also supplied Nadir with money so she could buy whatever her heart desired. But as Nadir looked over at Christine she seemed completely content just to be staring out at the passing countryside. He could tell material possessions were not that important to this girl. She was unconsciously fiddling with her engagement ring and it was clear to Nadir just how much she seemed to love Erik. _If only his wicked temper would stop driving a wedge between them!_ Nadir thought to himself. _I have always feared that his irrational anger would be his eternal undoing. _

Christine was wearing a beautiful blue bonnet and matching travelling jacket. She looked every inch the young lady of polite society. As the carriage reached Beauvais she felt suddenly nervous about the amount of people that were around. She had gone from being locked away at Fairmont House to hiding away in the house on the hill. The busy crowds of society seemed a suddenly very alien concept. Nadir seemed to sense her apprehension and reached out to pat her hand.

"Its ok my dear, we will just take a leisurely stroll around the shops and enjoy this beautiful day!" Christine smiled at his kindness. She did not know where she and Erik would be without Nadir as a friend.

"Thank you," she said softly "It – just feels strange to be out again. Especially after what happened last time…"

"We all make mistakes Christine; its how we learn about life…" she nodded in agreement and looked down at the floor. "Now, no more of this! We shall have a pleasant day! I will not let Erik be proved right…we shall never hear the end of it!" Christine could not help but laugh with him. It was true, if anything went wrong today Erik would relish in being right once again.

Beauvais Cathedral loomed over the town magnificently. Christine felt like her heart had jumped into her throat. She needed to get closer and explore the beautiful building. The three companions made their way through the busy streets and visited various shops. Marcus was on the lookout for a present for his Nicole. She was very ill and he wanted to do something to cheer her up. Christine had brought two new dresses and a bonnet but her interest was beginning to wan. It would have been different if Nicole had been able to join her, it would be like when she and Meg had gone into Paris all those years ago. She could constantly feel the eyes of Nadir and Marcus on her and it was beginning to annoy her. She did not know what Erik had said to them but it clearly had the effect he had wanted. _Why is he so scared something was will happen to me? Why is it so dangerous?_ She thought to herself as she fiddled with some ribbon. Nadir walked up beside her.

"Are you ok Christine? You seemed to be miles away!"

"Yes I'm fine thank you…I was wondering – if its not too much trouble, would we be able to pay a visit to the cathedral before we leave? I would like to light a candle for my father…" Nadir smiled kindly.

"Of course my dear girl, I should probably not accompany you inside but I'm sure Marcus will be happy to!"

XXXXX

Nadir waited patiently outside the Cathedral. It was beginning to become dusk and they needed to be leaving. He could already vision Erik standing in his large bay window awaiting their return. His patience would be ticking away slowly. Marcus had not gone all the way into the cathedral with Christine. He remained by the entrance so that he could still see her, but also to give her some privacy to say a prayer for her father. She was kneeling with her head bowed and seemed oblivious to the rest of the world.

Christine was lost in memories of her father. The days they had spent together bound by his beautiful music. The stories he would tell her about angels and heaven. The stories that continued to live on in her dreams.

"I miss you so much father…" she sobbed quietly "…but I think I am ready to move on. And I know all that you ever wanted was for me to be happy…I think now I can be…_he will always look after me_ I can promise you that…" she smiled at the thought of her new life with Erik. He was a very difficult man, but she knew that nobody would ever love her more. A hooded figure sat down not far from her and lit another candle.

"That was a very sweet farewell…you even managed to reach my heart…" the voice of this hooded stranger sent waves of fear through her veins. She turned her head slowly and fell into the eyes of Edward Bertrand.

"Please do not make a scene my dear…not in the house of God" her mouth fell open in horror but no scream could escape her lips. This man had once again rendered her silent.

"_Please go away_…" she whispered.

"Now that's not very nice Miss Daae…I was hoping we could catch up, I'm sure you have much to tell me."

"I'll scream… my friends are only outside…they'll hear me!" She stuttered.

"What do you think I'm going to do?" Bertrand said with mock innocence. "Steal you away from a Cathedral…I can assure you Miss Daae, I am a lot more _inventive_ than that!" his lips curled up with pleasure as he reached out and put his hand on her thigh. Christine flinched with horror.

"You should be more careful with your choice of friends; I spotted the Persian gentleman a mile away. Is he the one you were talking to at the Vicomte's party?" A lone tear was making its way down Christine's cheek as she nodded slowly. Bertrand moved his hand up and wiped the tear away with his finger. Then he put his finger in his mouth and sucked hard.

"Your tears taste like heaven…" he said slyly. Christine could feel her insides sicken. "…when we are married it will be your kisses I will taste!"

"I would never marry you!" she said with an angry sob.

"You may not always feel that way…Please don't cry Miss Daae, it does you no favours." Bertrand reached out and grabbed her left hand. "Ah I see you are engaged again…but you don't think I would let a small thing like that stop me do you? You didn't marry the Vicomte, just as I said you wouldn't… " Christine jerked her hand away from his icy grip.

"I'll tell him about you…" she whispered with pure hate. Bertrand smirked.

"I don't think so, you see my dear I have been doing some research into your mysterious fiancée. You will not tell him anything…If you do I will kill him and the Vicomte," he began to stroke her jaw line "This can be our _little _secret."

"You obviously haven't been doing your research very well monsieur…you wouldn't even get close enough to kill him!" Christine said strongly.

"Your confidence him in is very touching…of course it needn't be him… I could start with your adopted mother…Annette Giry. She lives alone does she not?" Christine was silent with horror.

"She has nothing to do with any of this! Why are you doing this to me" she said softly.

"Because I want you…and in time you will want me to. Keep your pretty lips shut and all of your friends will live. Being my wife is a small price to pay for their lives. Say one word and they will all die…including the man you love."

"He would kill you in an instant!" she spat.

"Ah there is that spark I love…I'm glad Agatha didn't extinguish it from you fully."

"You are no match for him…"

"I would not be so sure; I am a very skilled man Christine. _In lots of ways…"_ he smirked wickedly "Do not be so confident of your masked man's safety…we all have a weakness." He said as he devoured her form with his greedy eyes. Christine bowed her head sadly. Bertrand grabbed her hand and kissed it with hard cold lips. She pulled it away with disgust.

"Farewell sweet Christine, remember I am always near. Do not do anything _stupid_. Soon you will be mine...Christine Bertrand…it has rather a nice ring to it…" He disappeared into the statues of the Cathedral. Christine felt physically sick. Once again she was trapped, whatever she did she would loose. If she told Erik she risked the lives of Raoul and Madame Giry. But if she did not she would loose Erik. And have to end her days with the man she hated beyond human reason. A hand patted her on the shoulder softly, she jumped at the contact.

"Sorry Christine I didn't mean to startle you…" said the concerned voice of Marcus. "We really should be going. The master will be pacing the floor by now!" Christine nodded and rose from the floor; she could not feel her legs and felt unsteady on her feet.

"Who was that man?" He asked inquisitively.

"Nobody…I'm sorry; I did not expect to be so long." She said sadly. Marcus noticed a distant sadness in her warm eyes. Losing her father at a young age had clearly affected her deeply. He touched her arm and smiled kindly.

"Come Christine…lets find Nadir and go home. He must be frozen by now." Christine attempted a smile; they made their way out of the large Cathedral. She kept checking over her shoulder encase they were being followed. The shadows of the statues seemed to dance in the candle light. Only when they were in the safety of the carriage did she let herself relax.

XXXXX

When they reached the house on the hill it was already dark. But strangely Erik was nowhere to be seen; instead they were greeted by Darius.

"I'm so glad your back" he said to the returning trio "I think the Erik is in his office…" all three men turned to look at Christine. She had been mute for the entire journey and now seemed completely oblivious to what Darius had said.

"I'm going to my room…" she said with a slight crack in her voice. Nadir was concerned; he had thought she would run straight to find Erik. "Thank you for today, I will see you all tomorrow. Goodnight." She picked up her skirts and ran up the stairs. She did not notice Erik storming towards them in the opposite direction. The three men jumped at the arrival of the masked man, who was staring at the stairs.

"What time do you call this Daroga?" Erik said firmly.

"Ah Erik, sorry old boy we got a little sidetracked. We are all home safely now though…no harm done." Erik simply glared back at his friend in silence. Marcus and Darius sensed it was time to leave and made their way to the stairs.

"Where is Christine? Why did she run away?" Erik asked suddenly.

"She has been fine all day Erik. I think she enjoyed the fresh air and the town. She certainly enjoyed spending your money…" Erik let himself smile "…she has been rather quiet on all the way home though – very distant." Erik frowned.

"Distant?" He echoed "In what way Daroga…do you think she is having second thoughts?" Nadir could see the suspicion alight in Erik's eyes. He shook his head firmly.

"No…nothing like that, perhaps you should speak with her…" Nadir said calmly. Erik looked angry and began to march towards the stairs.

Christine was weeping into the safety of her pillow. She wanted desperately to go to Erik but she was scared that he would see straight through her. He would know something was wrong and force the truth out of her. The truth that would destroy so many lives, Bertrand seemed to know everything. She could not put Raoul and Madame Giry in danger, but she knew she could not live without Erik. Either way blood would be spilled on her account. That was something she could not live with.

She sat up with a jump as her bedroom door slammed open. Erik marched in with a face of fury. His expression changed to concern as he saw the tears that lingered on her face.

"Christine?" he said softly as he made his way to her side. "Why are you crying?" She continued to sob and let herself fall into his warm arms.

"Please hold me." she whispered, his arms held her in an iron grip.

"Tell me what's wrong" He said firmly. Christine could not find her voice and continued to weep into his shirt. "Tell me Christine." He commanded.

"I – I just…I wish my father was here. I always imagined him giving me away when I got married…" she hated herself for lying to him but she could not bring herself to tell him what had happened.

"I don't think I am a man your father would approve of…" Erik said sadly. Christine pulled herself away from his arms and looked into his eyes.

"It doesn't matter anyway…because I love you. And no matter what happens Erik, I always will…please remember that." Erik gave her a confused stare.

"Are you sure you're telling me everything? Are you telling me the truth Christine?" He said with a frown. Christine knew he would be able to see through any more lies. She nodded dumbly and crawled back into his arms. She wanted to be as close to him as she could. For as long as she still had him. Erik held on to her fragile body, he knew she was hiding something from him. And he was not going to rest until he found out.

XXXXX

The rest of the week passed slowly, Christine spent as much time with Erik as she could and he seemed to analyse her every movement. She could not ignore the suspicious way he would look at her whenever she looked distant. Erik found it strange that after begging for freedom Christine would not even walk around the grounds of the house. She stayed in her room whenever she was not with him or Nicole. She had insisted on writing long letters to both Madame Giry and Meg. She seemed to be planning the wedding furiously, and although Erik wanted them to be married as soon as possible. It was not like Christine to plan things in haste. This was not the same girl who had been planning to perfection only a week earlier. She seemed to feel like time was against her.

When Christine was asleep Erik would work on his costume for Bertrand's masquerade ball. He intended this one to be even more magnificent and terrifying than the last. Bertrand would die even before the noose was around his throat. He had not told Christine that he intended to go; she would simply worry or insist on joining him. And he was not going to let her anywhere near Bertrand. He sat in his office one cold night and put the finishing touches to his costume. The rest of the house was asleep

The clock was ticking slowly towards midnight.

Christine wondered the cold halls of the house. Her robe was pulled tightly around her small body in an attempt to keep herself warm. The house had never seemed so quiet, it was almost eerie. Like these calm moments were coaxing in a loud nightmare. The only sound was the padding of her feet on the cold floor and the distant ticking of a grandfather clock. The sudden chime of midnight caused Christine to jump with fear. She was on her way to find Erik. She needed to tell him about Bertrand, he would be angry. He would be furious that she had not told him. But she was determined Edward Bertrand would not ruin their future. There was too much at stake.

"What are you doing wondering around at this time of night?" called Erik's voice from the shadow. She whirled around to see him standing right behind her.

"I wanted to see you." She replied putting her hand against his chest. She could see his eyes wondering over her body. He pulled her into his arms amorously.

"In a week we'll be married…then you'll be mine every night…" he said as he nuzzled his face into her soft hair. Christine could feel her desire growing. How did he evoke such need in her? She had come to see him to talk…but now the thoughts that had plagued her mind all day seemed to disappear.

"I can't wait a week…" She whispered. In a second his lips were on hers. One blissful haze later and he had carried her back to his room. She felt the welcoming soft sheets beneath her back as her body hit the bed. He covered her body with his and held her tightly. She kept her eyes closed and let the feelings of pure desire wash over her. Erik was kissing her with a hunger like she had never felt before. Their mouths were fused together in a dance of passion; she ran her small hands through his thick hair. As he moved his face away from hers, she reached up to remove his mask. It was a barrier that had been in the way for to long. He caught her hand in his in a lightening reflex.

"No…" he said with a ragged sigh. "No Christine."

"Please Erik…I'm going to be your wife. I want to be able to love every inch of you…" he let his grip lessen on her hand and she reached up and peeled away the mask slowly. She was becoming so used to him wearing the mask that it seemed like his natural face. But in times like this she was determined there would be no physical barriers between them. She let her hand caress his ravaged cheek gently and lovingly. Then she guided his face back down to hers and claimed his lips in a kiss. He was hesitant at first, almost nervous. But after a few moments he regained his masterful confidence and ran his hands over her corset. Christine felt like her insides were on fire. She needed to be closer to him; kisses were no longer enough….

The sound of thundering at the front door caused them both to jump up with shock. Erik was on his feet in moments with his mask in place. His face had lost the passion it had carried only moments earlier. Christine could feel cold shards of fear shooting up her spine. There was a momentary stillness before the thuds came again.

"Wait here." Erik commanded. In the lapse of a moment he had changed from a gentle lover to a fierce protector. "…do not leave this room until I return for you."

"I want to come with you…" Christine said desperately grabbing his sleeve.

"No…please Christine. Do as I say." She nodded slowly and sat on the bed. They shared a loving glance before Erik turned on his heel and strode from the room. When he reached the top of the stairs he could see that Nadir and Marcus had beaten him to the door. They seemed to be fussing over a small figure and Nadir was speaking in a tone that suggested he already knew this late night intruder.

"Daroga! What is going on?" Erik roared as he made his way down the stairs. Nadir took a few steps away from the small figure and Erik stopped in his tracks.

"Hello Erik…" said the weary voice of Annette Giry. She looked as though she had been running for days. Her usually impeccable hair was out of place and her gown was covered in mud. Erik could only stare with a concerned frown. "…I need to speak with you." Even in her exhausted state she retained a stern authority.

"There will be plenty of time for that later." Said Nadir with concern "We need to get you cleaned up and rested…" Madame Giry frowned.

"No! There is time for that later…this cannot wait!" Nadir opened his mouth to argue again.

"Follow me…" Erik said evenly before turning on his heel and walking up the stairs. Madame Giry left nadir's side and began to follow the masked man. Marcus was surprised to see that this woman seemed to hold no fear for his master. He seemed to be like any other passing acquaintance to her.

Madame Giry followed Erik through a series of corridors. This house was so much like his old home beneath the opera house. It was dark and mysterious but also sensually inviting. Even in the silence of the corridors she felt as though she could hear a distant harmonious music. Erik stopped at a pair of large Mahogany doors and opened them confidently. He lit the gas lamps and prepared the large fire. He motioned for Annette to sit down with a gesture of his hand. Moments later he appeared with a blanket which Annette spread across her lap. He poured her a glass of brandy and sat in the chair opposite.

"A man came to my apartment last night." Madame Giry began slowly. Erik was listening intently elbows rested on the arms of the chair, his long fingers clasped together. "…he said he had Christine, I was so worried Erik!" Erik's eyes held an intense fire. "He told me he had taken her from the Cathedral in Beauvais."

"Who was this man?" Erik asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"He called himself Bertrand…he seemed to know so much Erik. Too much! He knew Christine had lived in the Opera House, how she had come to stay with me after her father had died! He also asked questions about you." Erik was scowling inwardly. It was a look Annette had seen before and she suddenly felt nervous.

"I knew he was lying, because I know Christine is here. But I had to come and see her with my own eyes…when he left he…" she seemed uncertain of whether to continue.

"Go on." Erik said coolly

"He said that soon Christine would be his forever – what could he mean by that?" Erik rose from his chair and began to stalk about the room.

"It is a message for me. He knew you would come here…I think he wants me to know all of this…how did he know Christine was in Beauvais yesterday?" Madame Giry paled with worry.

"Do not fret; he will not be around to cause trouble for much longer. It's all being arranged."

"No Erik." She said with horror "there are other ways to deal with these things…" Erik turned to face her with an arrogant smile across his face.

"But this is _my_ way; he is guilty of much more than this. He will pay for all that he has done." Madame Giry was staring at him questioningly.

"I haven't the strength to argue with you Erik. You know my opinion on such matters."

"Thank you for coming to tell me all of this." He said sincerely. "There is nothing more we can do tonight. I shall show you to a room. You are welcome to stay as long as you wish." Madame Giry nodded in thanks.

"Merci, but I think a couple of days shall be enough. Then I plan for Christine and me to journey to Rouen to visit Meg, it is clearly not safe for her here…" Erik was staring at her with a controlled rage.

"She's not going anywhere." He said with disbelief.

"I beg your pardon?" she said angrily.

"I said she is not leaving…she will stay here!"

"You haven't changed Erik…you still want to keep her locked away with you! She belongs with her family! Give me one good reason why I should let her stay in this house with you!"

"Because he is my fiancée." A small voice echoed from the doorway. Erik and Madame Giry turned around with shock. Madame Giry flew to the petite figure and swept her up in a furious embrace.

"I am so glad to see that you are safe!" she planted a kiss to Christine's cheek. Then she heard Christine's words for the first time. "…your engaged?" Christine nodded with a happy smile across her face. She held out her hand to Annette who studied her ring curiously. She remembered how Christine had been that day when she had left Raoul and how much she had wanted to find Erik. And although he was not a perfect man, it had always been clear how much they loved each other. She had her doubts about them rushing into marriage but now did not seem like the right time to voice them.

"Congratulations…" she said warmly "both of you" she turned and smiled at Erik who was unusually silent. She hugged Christine again. Nadir was next to appear at the doorway, holding his hat in his hands. Erik rolled his eyes at another intrusion.

"I thought Madame Giry may need someone to escort her to her room, Nicole has made one up in the West Wing…"

"I am not completely devoid of social civility Daroga…but now you are here I suppose you can make yourself useful." Erik said coolly. Christine smiled at his ever dry wit. Nadir gestured to the door and Madame Giry nodded in acquiesce.

"Goodnight my dear…" she said stroking Christine's cheek "We shall speak more in the morning." she turned and nodded in Erik's direction before following Nadir out of the room. Christine walked over to Erik and put her arms around his waist, she buried her head in his chest. He reciprocated the gesture and rested his head atop of hers.

"What happened?" she whispered.

"You disobeyed me." Erik said evenly "I told you to wait in there until I returned for you!"

"It was only Madame Giry Erik…"

"But next time it might not be…we can never be too careful…" Christine could not argue with his cryptic words because she knew them to be true. She had feared the intruder had been Bertrand on his way to kill Erik. She had wanted to tell Erik what had happened in the Cathedral but now she had lost her nerve. He was clearly in a dark mood and would not forgive her for not telling him immediately. Little did she know her future husband was also harbouring a secret about Bertrand. Erik did not want to tell her that Bertrand had visited Madame Giry or what he had planned for the masked ball. His innate resolve to protect her from everything made him keep quiet.

For now they stood and held onto each other. Both blissfully unaware the other was hiding a deception that could cost them everything.

Bertrand's plan was beginning to take shape. To break them apart he would first need to break their trust in each other. The lingering doubts would soon start to surface and weaknesses would develop. But this was only the beginning…

There were no lengths he would not go to: Christine would be his bride.

XXXXX

More soon!


	15. The Masquerade of Midnight

AN: Sorry about the really late update! Hope you like this chapter…

Disclaimer: I don't own anything!

Chapter 15: The Masquerade of Midnight.

The preparations were underway. Bertrand had planned his masquerade ball to perfection. He had everything, the money the powerful friends and the beautiful manor house. All he needed now was the blushing bride. He wanted everything to be perfect. For the first time in his life he would be the best. For too long he had hidden in the shadows while other people had shone and stolen the glory.

It had begun with his brother. All the years of being compared to his noble sibling had poisoned his soul and strengthened his resolve to succeed.

There were no shadows anymore, no longer the consuming need to hide. He had seen to that when he extinguished the lives of his father and brother. He had no qualms in killing further to get what he wanted and needed. He had disposed of his own blood, he had paid other men to creep up and kill them in the dark. He had been too much of a coward to do see their last moments of life with his own eyes. There was blood on his soul but not on his hands.

He had learned his father's final gift was still out of his reach. As with all things with his father there was a catch. He could only claim his prize when he had bound himself in the joys of holy matrimony. He remained confident that this small detail would not be a problem for much longer…

For the first time in his life he wanted something pure. He craved the security of a promise that could never be broken. There had been many women over the years, lovers, mistresses and prostitutes. But there had never been anything that could be his eternally. There had never been anything pure and clean. Now he had found her…and the game of cat and mouse to ensnare her was truly satisfying. Her complete resolve to run from him only made him more determined to get her. No woman had ever captured his attention so fully. Willing or not he was determined to make Christine his wife. As far as he knew there had been no other men. She was truly pure and untouched. He could already feel the excitement of the wedding night, the pure flesh that he could unite with.

There was only one obstacle to overcome. It had been easy to dive her away from the Vicomte. Her feelings were already fading and it was clear she was unhappy with her union into the de Chagny family. But this new engagement was different; she had been weak and submissive before. But now she had found a new depth and strength. She had spoken out of turn several times in the cathedral. And while her spirit only served to make his desire grow, she was more likely to do something stupid. He could not risk her loose lips ruining everything. After his Ball it would be finished and she would be his bride. Willing or not he would have her. Even if it meant killing her fiancée…and the Vicomte de Chagny.

XXXXX

Christine and Madame Giry walked through the grounds of the House on the Hill. After a few days of bed rest the former ballet mistress was back to her strong self. She had been grilling her adopted daughter about her impending marriage to the mansion's dark master. She was scared they were making a hasty rush in marrying so soon. Christine was still young and he needed to be sure he could handle the emotional commitment of marriage.

"He has changed Madame; I see it a little more each day. He would never harm me…" Christine said softly and tried to ignore the older woman's frown.

"I have always known he would never harm you my dear. In fact, you are probably the only person on this earth that could push his patience to the limit... and live to tell the tale." Christine giggled "But, you must remember who he is. He is a very different man to the Vicomte. There are things you will never be able to do. He has a very dark past Cherie. You will _both_ need to overcome that with understanding and patience." Christine lowered her gaze, however much she hated to hear it Madame Giry was right. So much of Erik's past was unknown to her. She often feared having so much love for a man she knew so little about. And she still lacked the courage to ask him to tell her about what had happened to make him the man he was.

"I know… there is so much about him I do not know about. But I love him Madame. I did not choose to, but I do. It hurts me each day and the pain only goes away when I am with him." Madame Giry was silent she could see it in the young girls eyes that she spoke the truth. But her maternal instincts forced her to feel cautious about their union. She cared for them both and feared such intense emotion would be the undoing of them. But she could not deny that this was the happiest she had seen Christine in years.

"I cannot argue with that my dear," she said as she stroked Christine's pale cheek "If you love him as much as he loves you, then I'm sure you will have a very happy future together. All you need is to find a way to control that insufferable temper of his!" Christine smiled warmly.

"Thank you Madame. Your blessing means so much to me, and even though he would never admit it, I think it means a lot to Erik to." Madame Giry laughed. She was all too familiar with Erik's arrogant pride. Maybe this beautiful girl was the cure to so many of his vices. She could be the sun that would brighten his world of eternal darkness.

"Come Cherie, I need to gather my things before I leave for Rouen. Will you accompany me back to the house?" Christine smiled sadly at her adopted mother.

"I wish you did not have to go, I have loved having you here. Promise me you will return for the wedding…" Madame Giry nodded and laughed.

"I would not miss it cherie! I will return in two weeks. But I need to go to Meg she will be sick with worry."

"Pass on my love to her. Oh I miss her so much – so much has happened since we last saw each other. Tell her I will write again soon."

"I will my dear; I know she misses you deeply. But as we get older we must follow our own paths. You two will always be like sisters, those bonds do not break…come now, lets return indoors."

"You go; I'll follow you in shortly. I'm enjoying the fresh air…I will be back before you leave." Madame Giry nodded and the two women embraced warmly. Madame Giry returned to the house and Christine began to walk. There was still so much of this house and its grounds she had yet to explore. This was her home now and she was determined to know every inch of it.

She had been walking for nearly half an hour lost in thoughts of the past and the future. She longed for her future and feared it in equal measure. She needed to tell Erik about Bertrand but already knew the reaction she would receive. She had left it to long and his anger would be fierce. _If only I had told him straight away! I cannot look forward until I know what to do…_she thought solemnly. She had wondered so far in her hypnotised state that she was no longer in the grounds of the house. The countryside was spread before her like a sea of fields and trees. An approaching rider caught her attention. It was a man dressed in impeccable clothing and a top hat. He was riding a beautiful white horse and headed straight in her direction. She wanted to turn and run but it would be useless. He was too close there was no where to run to. Instead she pretended she hadn't seen him and began to walk in the direction of the house.

"Christine!" a familiar voice called out "Christine – Wait!" she turned around slowly to see Raoul riding towards her. She smiled at the sight of her friend but also felt anxious about his presence. This was one complication she did not need at the moment. She glanced in every direction to check for any sign of Erik.

"Hello Raoul…what brings you all the way out here?" he jumped down from his horse and began to walk alongside her.

"I am staying at one of our country residences…I have some _business _in the area. How are you Christine?"

"I am well, thank you…it is such a lovely day it seemed a pity to waste it indoors." She smiled politely, Raoul could sense the distance in her tone. She would not stop walking and seemed on a relentless mission to get back to the grounds of the house. He pulled at her arm to stop her.

"Are you sure you are ok Christine? I can always tell when you're lying…" she turned to face him with worried eyes.

"I'm fine. I promise I just need to be getting home…" Raoul felt his insides flinch. The sound of her calling _his _house her home stung bitterly.

"Are we not even allowed to have a polite conversation now?" he said angrily. Christine looked at him with tears clouding her brown eyes.

"Yes of course…your friendship means a lot to me Raoul. Especially after everything, but I really cannot talk now." The sound of rustling leaves made her jump; she could feel the fear running through her veins like ice. She whirled around nervously to see a squirrel run up a nearby tree, relief washed over her. Raoul was looking at her with complete disbelief.

"Look what he has reduced you to! You're a complete wreck…we're only talking Christine, you're not doing anything wrong…"

"I know" she said sadly "Now is not the time for this Raoul. Please…" she tried to walk away again but he pulled her back.

"I cannot stand by while you ruin your life and marry that - that _monster_ Christine…" she looked up angrily.

"Do not call him that. You speak of things you do not understand!"

"Then make me understand Christine, tell me what is troubling you…are you afraid of him? It's still not too late if you have changed your mind…"

"It's not him I'm afraid of." She said with her eyes at the floor. Raoul was puzzled by her cryptic statement.

"Who then, who is it that has you jumping at your own shadow?" Christine already feared she had said too much.

"I didn't mean that. I'm sorry if I have seemed rude but I need to get home…forgive me Mon ami." Raoul gave her a concerned smile.

"I only want you to be safe and happy Christine. I am going to be in the country for a few days. I have to attend a ball at Edward Bertrand's new country estate, and then I am going to return to Paris. If you need me I'll be here…" Christine nodded and smiled at him warmly before turning and walking in the direction of the house. Raoul lingered for a few moments and watched her small figure disappear into the distance. She had almost flinched when he had mentioned Bertrand's name. Her already pale face momentarily lost what little colour it had. She was clearly not fine, and he would not stand aside while she suffered in silence. If she needed his help he would be there, for better or for worse.

XXXXX

Christine returned to the house in time to see everyone gathered at the front of the house to bid farewell to Madame Giry. Everyone accept Erik. He had arranged for someone to take her all the way to Rouen. She would travel comfortably and safely, Christine knew he cared for her safety more than he would admit to. She embraced her adopted mother once more, but there were no words. For they both knew this wasn't a final goodbye they would see each other again soon enough. Nadir and Annette also shared a moment of farewell and he whispered something in her ear that made her smile more brightly than Christine had ever seen before.

Erik appeared just as Madame Giry had begun to climb into the carriage. She turned and smiled at his presence. They did not embrace but he gave her a warm smile and nodded, she mirrored the gesture and they shared a moment of mutual understanding.

Christine could not take her eyes from him. He was dressed in his usual brilliant black suit but today he wore a deep blue waistcoat. He looked so powerful and masculine, like a true noble. Seeing him smile so genuinely had caused her pulse to race. Madame Giry walked to Christine once more and gave her a final hug.

"Take care Cherie…I will write when I get to Rouen…" they smiled at other and Madame Giry climbed into the carriage using Erik's outstretched hand for support. Erik shut the carriage door and whispered something to the driver. The man turned white and nodded with fear.

"Good" Erik said firmly before fixing his gaze on Christine. She blushed involuntarily under his intense eyes. He walked over to her slowly and circled his strong arm around her waist. Her heart was hammering in her chest. He gave a graceful nod to the driver who pulled hard on the horse's reins. Moments later the carriage sped away. Christine let her body relax into Erik's and put an arm across his stomach, she smoothed the expensive fabric of his waistcoat. She was debating whether to tell him about her chance meeting with Raoul.

"Where have you been all morning…" he asked in a calm voice as he took in the scent of her hair.

"I was walking with Madame Giry; we had a lot to catch up on…" Erik was silent for a few moments.

"You have enjoyed having her here haven't you?" she nodded slowly, she could sense a sadness echo from somewhere in his voice.

"Yes, she and Meg were my family for so long. It means so much to me that they will always be in my life… in our life" she looked up at him. His jaw had clenched slightly, but not in anger. It seemed it was Erik's turn to fight away the tears. She pretended not to notice and held onto him a little tighter.

XXXXX

The morning of the masked ball came quickly. Erik had finished his costume and planned Bertrand's final moments of life to grim satisfaction. Christine's words had echoed in his head for days _"our life…" _he wondered if he would ever hear such sweet words again. He would forsake all of his music to hear those words for an eternity. In her mind they were already one person, with one life together. The small gesture of such emotion had touched him more deeply than he had realised he could feel. He had never known such unity before, it made his heart feel warm. He would protect her with every fibre of his soul; in his head they were already married.

Nadir had been trying for days to convince him not to go to the party.

"The authorities have given up the search for the Opera Ghost; do you really think attending such a public event is wise?"

"It's a masquerade Daroga; it is the one place I am certain to _blend_ in." Erik said with a wicked smile.

"Its invitation only Erik, only the wealthy from Paris have been invited…how do you intend…" Nadir had paled as Erik pulled the lavish invitation from his suit pocket. "How on earth did you!" Erik smiled again.

"I have ways Daroga…you should know that more than anyone." Nadir shook his head and began to walk from the room.

"Very well…but we should not speak to each other at this event. It may arouse suspicion. So do your best to avoid me…"

"I shall try my best. I'm sure it will be an _agonising_ struggle" Erik said with thick sarcasm. Nadir gave him a scowl and grunted.

"I shall see you tomorrow evening"

"Daroga…" Erik called after his friend "Not a word to Christine. She must not know anything about this." Nadir nodded, but secretly he disagreed with his friend. She had the right to know where Erik was going to be. They could not build a life together on a foundation of lies. Nadir opened the door to Erik's office to see the lovely face of Christine staring back at him.

"Hello Monsieur Nadir. Is Erik in there?" she appeared calm and must not have heard their conversation.

"Indeed he is my dear," he said with a swift motion of his hand into the room. "He is all yours." She smiled brightly at him and walked into the office, puzzled by Nadir's unusual manner. Nadir closed the door behind him.

Erik had not noticed her; he was sat at a piano with his back to the door. She tiptoed over to him and slid her small arms around his neck and kissed his exposed cheek. He did not finch and before she knew it he had pulled her into his lap. Their lips found each other instantly in a passionate kiss.

"Where have you been all morning…" she whispered, but his answer was another intense kiss. They were both in need of physical contact, caught up in a sudden need of each other's bodies. Christine moaned into his mouth and pulled her legs apart so that they circled his waist. She was completely open to him and it made his desire grow.

"I wish we could get married sooner…" she moaned as Erik began to kiss her neck. He kissed the length of her neck and stopped at her ear.

"We may have to bring it forward…" he whispered. The soft waves of his tone sent shivers through her body. He pulled his face from her neck and looked into her eyes.

"I love you Christine." He said with his eyes full of emotion. She felt all breath escape her lungs. This was the first time he had said those words since the night in the Opera House. She had always known that he loved her, but to hear him say it with such sincerity made her heart weep. She began to stroke his cheek with her soft hand. There seemed to be something so intimate about touching his face. For it was the cause of all his inner torment. She realised she had come to love his face, masked and unmasked. It symbolised the different sides of his personality so well. One brooding and handsome, one wounded and tormented. All covered up by a mask of pride and arrogance. The real Erik was somewhere in between, buried very deep down. And she had the rest of her life to find him.

"I love you too…" she whispered as he once again caught her lips in a heart stopping kiss. She moved in his lap trying in vain to make their bodies even closer. She only served to make him kiss her with a deeper hunger. He ran his bare hands up her skirts and felt the soft flesh of her legs. His touch was warm and welcome and she began to pull at his jacket. There seemed to be too much clothing keeping them apart. Erik stood up holding her underneath her thighs she looped her arms around his neck.

Moments later they were on the chaise. She discarded Erik's jacket and began to fumble with the intricate buttons on his waistcoat. He was busy kissing her chest and neck hypnotised by the sensual aroma of her skin. He had never known a feeling like this before, one of complete passion and utter devotion. He needed to love her in every way possible. Then she would belong to him completely. Christine moaned against the skilful rhythm of his masterful hands. He seemed to be touching her with the same perfection that he used to play his music; he had utter devotion to every movement. She knew she would never be able to live without this feirce connection; it was with her every moment of the day, body and soul.

There was a rasp at the door.

"Master …are you in there?" came the interrupting voice of Marcus from beyond the door. They both froze and looked at each other. Christine could not hide the disappointment in her face. It seemed fate always had a plan to keep them from getting closer. Her feelings were getting harder to suppress and each time she was left wanting more. She could see Erik's disappointment turning to anger at the interruption of their private moment. He rose from the chaise, which left her body feeling cold. He did up his waistcoat and retrieved his jacket from the floor. Smiling wickedly at Christine as he did so, she blushed and began to straighten out her dishevelled skirts. When she looked up again he was dressed impeccably with not a hair out of place. Erik kissed her on the forehead before marching to the door and thrusting it open angrily.

"Yes." He said sternly.

"I need to talk to you master…its rather important." Marcus looked over Erik's shoulder at Christine who seemed to be staring at something in the opposite direction. Erik sighed but was not angry. Marcus was not the kind of man to seek out his master for something trivial. This must be important. His scowl softened slightly and he sighed.

"Very well…we shall talk in the library." He nodded down the corridor and Marcus began to make his way down the hall. Erik turned to Christine.

"Excuse me Mon ange, I shall not be long." His tone was soft and in complete opposition to how it had been only moments earlier. Christine nodded and gave him a warm smile.

They shared a long moment, with a look of love oozing from their eyes. Christine felt a pang from somewhere deep in her soul. This moment seemed to be as long as a lifetime. It was a look of bittersweet sadness that lovers share on parting. There was something haunting about the way his eyes lingered on her face. It was as though they would never gaze upon her again. He returned her smile and made his way out of the room. A soft shiver racked her bones and lingered in her heart.

When the door had closed behind him Christine wondered over and picked up a small piece of paper that must have fallen out of his jacket. It was small and laced with gold. She turned it over and her mouth gaped open in horror. The gold writing shone up at her mockingly.

_You are cordially invited to the Masquerade Ball of the Century._

_By your divine friend and host._

_Edward Bertrand. _

Why did Erik have this? Her heart sank when she saw the date. _Tonight! How can it be tonight? _Another thought suddenly made her hand fly to her mouth _Raoul! He will be there to! _She felt her whole body go limp and the invitation floated back to the floor. She ran from Erik's quarters back to her own room. It seemed that she was not the only one capable of keeping secrets. The man she had just been so close to now seemed like a complete stranger. She could not fathom Erik's reasons for attending such an event, but she knew her fiancée well enough to know that they would not be honourable. _He must have heard me speaking with Raoul! Oh I am such a fool! He is going to kill them both! And then return to me like nothing had happened…oh Erik why do I still not know you! _She began to fumble in her closet for something appropriate to wear to a Masquerade…

XXXXX

Erik was pacing the floor of the library confused by the information Marcus had given him.

"What did he look like?" He demanded "You must have seen him enter the Cathedral! Men do not just materialise out of thin air!" Marcus resisted the urge laugh. This was coming from the man who constantly appeared as if from nowhere.

"But he did Master…he sat down near to her. I think they were speaking but I was to far away to see for certain…" Erik's eyes had narrowed dangerously. Marcus could virtually see his brain possessing every fragment of information. "It did not look suspicious, otherwise I would have mentioned it sooner – but"

"But…what!" Erik snapped irritably.

"She has seemed so distant since. She looked so sad when we left the cathedral. Almost grief stricken…" Erik had folded his arms across his board chest.

"Lamenting the demise of her perfect engagement to the fop no doubt." Erik spat "It is all so clear now; she was so desperate to go to the town because she had a little liaison planned…They will pay for this…" Marcus felt a wave of panic.

"I'm sure there is another explanation Master – perhaps let Christine explain before…"

"Do not presume to tell me what to do boy…just do as I say. Christine is not to leave this house tonight, I have things to attend to and my night has just become busier. I will deal with her in the morning."

"But – Master… I"

"Do as I say….do not let me down. I am not in a forgiving mood." Marcus suddenly felt like he was shrinking under the intense gaze of his master's burning eyes. "…now if you will excuse me, I have a party to attend." Marcus felt hollow inside. He did not believe Christine capable of having an affair. She seemed completely content with his Master. He suddenly felt as though had unwillingly set into motion a chain of events that could not be undone. Erik seemed completely hell bent on extracting revenge on all around him. Only Nadir seemed capable of reasoning with his wild mind and he was nowhere to be seen. Marcus had no choice but to wait, and hope fate had a plan to stop his Masters murderous rampage…

XXXXX

Bertrand's masquerade was spectacular. The crème of society were gathered together to both admire and offend each other. They all seemed to welcome this new young aristocrat with open arms. He had a prestigious family heritage in Belgium and was a welcome addition to their elite club.

"_No scandalous affairs with this family…unlike others I could mention…" _a large lady dressed as a Greek warrior said. Nodding in the direction of Raoul de Chagny, who pretended not to overhear. He was beginning to hate these events. Especially when Philippe sent him alone, it was going to be a long night. He was dressed as a knight from medieval times and stood alone in a room of masks and lace. Music filled the air and young ladies dashed to find a partner to dance with.

"May I enquire how you know the host monsieur?" came a friendly voice from over his shoulder. Raoul turned round to see a Persian man dressed as a clown standing behind him. He was relived to hear a voice that was not laced with snobbery.

"He is a friend of my brother's…Philippe de Chagny. And how do you know our gracious host… monsieur?"

"Khan…Nadir Khan." The Persian said with a bow "Let's just say he and I go back several years. I was an acquaintance of his elder brother..._many _years ago" Raoul arched an eyebrow.

"Your name seems familiar Monsieur Khan. Tell me, do you frequent parties like this often?"

"No Monsieur I do not…I am very particular about such things." Raoul nodded and sipped his champagne. The two men continued to chat politely, Nadir found that he was enjoying the company of this polite young gentleman. There was such warmth and sincerity in his manner. But he kept a checking over his shoulder at all times, he could already feel Erik's eyes on him. He would surely think Nadir to be a traitor for even exchanging pleasantries with the boy. But this conversation had been rewarding in many ways. Nadir had learned that Bertrand had helped to fund many of Philippe's new business plans. It seemed to Nadir that the de Chagny brothers were about to get in out of their depth with this new partner. He continued to feel uneasy about the location of Erik. He needed to know where he was, _it doesn't help that I don't know what the damned boy is dressed as! _He thought to himself.

"Shall we get some air Monsieur Khan…I think I saw the host head that way. The two of you must surely have some catching up to do." Nadir nodded and smiled politely.

"After you Vicomte…"

XXXXX

Christine was pacing the floor furiously. She had ordered the stable boy to prepare the carriage an hour ago and he was still not ready. She had dressed in a beautiful black gown with red stitching on the bodice. She had found a small black mask in Erik's study and her small frame was enveloped in a blood red cloak. She looked more like the Phantom's bride than she ever had before. She scurried furiously down the servant's staircase and came face to face with Marcus. He looked at her with disappointed eyes.

"Please let me past." She pleaded "This is important Marcus; I need to stop him…"

"So it's true…" Marcus gasped "He was right after all."

"What do you mean?" She said in horror.

"You were with him in the cathedral after all…I hoped it wasn't true."

"You…you knew. Why didn't you tell me…?"

"I saw you Christine with my own eyes. How could you do that!" Christine had turned white.

"He's gone to kill him hasn't he." She said with a gulp "Why didn't he tell me he knew? I have to go and stop him. I will not let him spill blood on my account. He could get hurt" she tried to run past but Marcus grabbed her arm.

"No…you can't go Christine he made me promise to keep you here. He looked mad, I cannot disobey him…" She was looking at him with confused eyes.

"I hate Edward Bertrand, but I cannot have Erik kill for me. Not now…not after everything"

"Bertrand? What do you mean?" Marcus said as a cold shiver tingled up his spine.

"Bertrand - Found me in the cathedral. He said so many horrible things…I couldn't bring myself to tell Erik. Why…who did you think I was with?" Marcus felt sick.

"He thinks you went to meet the Vicomte. Behind his back…" Christine's hand flew to her mouth. "He made his own assumption's Christine, I could not stop him…" a tear was travelling down her cheek.

"Raoul will be at the Ball…we need to stop him. _Oh_ this is my entire fault I should have told him...now they are all in even more danger. Bertrand told me if I told Erik he would kill him and Raoul…and now Erik has gone to kill Raoul and Bertrand…all because of me…Its all my fault" Marcus shook his head.

"No – I should have come to you first…come there may still be time, the Ball is at his new country residence not too far from here…once he hears the truth from you he will see reason…" he grabbed her arm and they both ran from the house.

XXXXX

Bertrand stood in an empty courtyard. A cold blade was pressed against his throat and he looked into the green eyes of death. He had been lured out side by this mysterious stranger and blindly followed him out into the night. This man was dressed in a deep black dress suit and the most magnificent cloak he had ever seen. It was black and lacked in brilliant gold tread, it looked like the midnight sky and hypnotised the eyes. He had been intrigued by the identity of this stranger and followed him around the room and out into the courtyard. Something he now regretted as the blade was pressed slightly harder into his throat. A gold mask shaped like a lion covered the man's face entirely only the emerald eyes shone out. No words had been spoken but the hate that oozed from those eyes echoed like thunder.

"BERTRAND!" a voice called out from the gloom "What's going on…who is this man?" Bertrand was relived to hear the soft voice of Raoul de Chagny. He shrugged his shoulders slightly. He was afraid that any sudden movements would tempt this man to end his life.

"Think this through before you do it…death is too good for him." The sound of this second voice caused the golden lion to twitch with recognition. Raoul looked at the Persian with confused eyes. How did he know the identity of Bertrand's masked attacker?

"Whoever you are…please – drop your weapon, there must be another way to…" Raoul began.

"Stay out of this boy…your turn will come" said a silky voice from beyond the mask. Raoul's heart sank, he knew that voice. "I am surprised you have enough time to attend an event like this…shouldn't you be loitering in a cathedral somewhere…" Raoul's expression changed to one of utter confusion.

"I do not know what you are talking about monsieur…. but it seems your quarrel lies with me, not monsieur Bertrand…" Raoul began to take a few careful steps towards the masked man. "Let's talk this through reasonably…"

"I do not know reason, it destroys the senses. _Now _step back…"

"Does Christine know you are here? You haven't changed at all! You're still the lying murderer you always were…"

"Well perhaps you should have informed her of that when you were liaising in the church…"

"You're clearly insane…I have never seen Christine in a church…"

"Ah yes, is that because she ran away from you on your wedding day!" Erik said with thick sarcasm. Raoul reached for his rapier and attempted to strike Erik, their blades met in a thick clash of metal.

"Do not lie to me…you were seen…" Erik snarled as he thrust his blade in the direction of the young Vicomte. Raoul dodged and hit out at Erik again.

"You are wrong…whoever it was with her…it wasn't me" they continued to strike each other in a murderous dance across the courtyard. Both Nadir and Bertrand looked on; Bertrand's lips were curled up with pleasure.

"It seems you have been greatly mistaken sir…" laughed Bertrand "It was not the Vicomte who met your lovely fiancée in the cathedral…I did not think she would have the guts to tell you about our _little meeting." _Both Raoul and Nadir felt their mouths begin to gape. The muscles in Erik's back had tightened dangerously.

"Say that again." he said in a fierce whisper.

"She was with me, not the boy" Erik felt a new type of anger, he was unprepared for this. "How does it feel to know that I can control that lovely girl, it seems she is already bending to my whim… she has done well to keep those beautiful red lips shut."

"What did you do to her…?" Raoul said with horror as he moved to stand by Erik.

"Stay out of this Vicomte." Erik hissed.

"I care about Christine to…you cannot…" Raoul continued to rabble on. Erik's anger was simmering, the boy needed to be silenced. He turned and punched Raoul in the jaw; the young boy fell to the floor in pain.

"I warned you." Erik said coolly before turning his stabbing gaze to Bertrand. Bertrand clapped his hands together and laughed.

"What a performance you two put on! Truly marvellous…" Erik began to take a few controlled steps towards him. "Stay back." Bertrand said as he pulled a pistol from beneath the folds of his cloak. Erik merely laughed. The sound sent shivers through Bertrand's body, but he would not let his fear show.

"A coward's weapon…you do not have the guts to get your hands dirty! But of course we all knew that already. Tell me, how is your father?" Erik said with spite.

"I will not be intimidated. Not by a man like you"

"You have never met a man like me monsieur…I can assure you this is not intimidation. You will beg for death when I have finished with you" Nadir had helped the wounded Vicomte from the floor and they moved to stand beside Erik. Bertrand could feel his hands begin to shake. He could beat most men in single combat, but he could not take on the three of them. His mind began to race at a possible route of escape.

"Death will come to you before it does to me…and then I can have mademoiselle Daae all to myself. I can already taste her lovely flesh" he said with a sly smile. Erik lost the small ounce of control he had been holding onto and began to charge at Bertrand. All he could see was red mist.

A single shot echoed in the night sky, and a body fell to the floor with a thud.

Inside the house the party raged on merrily. Dancing and laughter resumed. Outside all that could be heard were the fleeing footsteps of Edward Bertrand.

XXXXX

More very soon…please let me know what you think!


	16. The Strength to Live

AN: This chapter is a bit short but I really wanted to update before the weekend. Its also got quite a lot of angst in it…

Chapter 16: The Strength to Live.

The shot echoed out into the night sky. A body dropped to the floor…but no blood fell onto the pavement.

Only two left the Masquerade that night…

…And the other…

XXXXX

Tears had dried onto Christine's pale cheeks. It seemed her eyes had lost the ability to cry. They were no longer the dazzling white orbs that had tantalised the crowds of Paris. They now seemed as dry and worn as the desert. Her body ached with grief and loss. Where the emotional pain ended and the physical pain began she could no longer tell. The memory of Masquerade still haunted her mind.

She and Marcus had arrived at the front of Bertrand's lavish house. Crowds and masks blocked the main entrance as people began to leave. But there were also two familiar faces. They were met by the void faces of Nadir and Raoul. They both eyed her with pity.

"I think we should get back into the carriage my dear…the party is at an end." Nadir said with a grieved sigh. Raoul nodded to Marcus who began to pull Christine back into Erik's large carriage. She could tell by the complete look of shell shock on their faces that something had happened.

"Where is Erik?" she demanded calmly. Panic setting into her heart. The carriage charged on into the darkened country lanes. Nobody would answer her.

"Tell me…where is he? I know he came here…" Nadir looked at her with tears in the corners of his eyes. Raoul could not meet her gaze.

"There was an accident." Nadir said with a gruff sigh.

"…accident…what do you mean. Where is he?"

"I'm so sorry my dear…" Nadir said as a tear travelled down his dark cheek. Raoul bowed his head. Christine's hand flew to her mouth in utter horror.

"…Erik is dead."

XXXXX

_Three days later…_

"_Erik is dead" _the words stung like a bitter winter chill. Christine lay on his large bed curled up in a protective cocoon. The masculine scent calmed her tormented mind. She had not slept in days. She needed to feel the warmth of his firm body next to her. She could imagine his masterful hands caressing her hair, and that voice coaxing her into a world of slumber… She had been stroking her engagement ring for hours. "_Why have you left me all alone…" _she sobbed "I love you…_I cannot live without you_!" her heart felt a pain like none she had ever experienced before. Half of it had been ripped away savagely by callous hands of fate. She held onto one of Erik's shirts smoothing the soft fabric with her fingers.

Nadir entered the room cautiously. Christine had refused to talk to anyone for days, and by the look of her she had not slept or eaten. He sat down on the bed slowly. Her eyes were empty, two lifeless orbs that stared into space.

"Christine…" he said softy. She made no conscious reaction to his voice. "…please eat something Christine, you will make yourself ill…" he felt an intense anger towards Erik. _Look what your rash actions have done! The woman you love has become a living ghost! Why have you left it to me to deal with this…?_ He thought bitterly.

"I don't want to eat." Christine said coldly. "…I want to be alone."

"Come…lets go downstairs. The Vicomte has come to enquire how you are. It may do you well to see a friendly face."

"Tell him to go away. I don't want to see anyone." Tears began to stream down her face. "…_I just want Erik…why has he left me_…" Nadir felt his heart break for her as he looked into her distressed brown eyes. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her that it was all going to be ok. But he could make no such promise. The situation was still to raw for him to deal with.

Nicole entered the room with a tray of fruit and a pot of tea. She had been leaving refreshments for Christine daily in the hope something would tempt her to eat. But nothing so far had made her move from the bed. She set the tray down on the table and began to stroke Christine's hair. Nadir expected Christine to snap, but instead she closed her exhausted eyes and stopped crying.

"This telegram came for you monsieur Khan." Nicole whispered as she handed Nadir a small envelope. "Its ok, I will sit with her a while." Nadir nodded and left the room. He took the letter from the envelope and began to read.

_I __know the location of a mutual friend of ours._

_Meet me at the rue Scribe entrance of the old Opera House at approximately nine o clock this evening._

_Come alone. _

Nadir placed the envelope in his pocket and prepared to leave for Paris. He knew exactly who had sent him the note…his anger hardened.

XXXXX

It had not been easy to make Christine leave the House on the Hill. But she had wanted to be with the only other person to have a close bond to Erik, and that person was Nadir. That house was too big and held to many memories. He had settled her and Nicole into his Town House. Marcus had been distressed by the sudden departure of his beloved Nicole, but someone needed to stay behind and take care of the running of the house. And Christine needed comfort far more than he did at the moment.

Nadir had put Christine in the room Erik had stayed in a few times after the Opera fire, it was the only thing he could do to give her a small amount of comfort. But before he could worry any more about her sanity he had someone to meet. Darius was under strict orders not to open the door to anyone. Bertrand could be anywhere.

Nadir made his way through the darkened streets of Paris, men and women walked arm in arm and chatted merrily. Some of them would stop and stare at the strange Persian man who lingered in the shadow. _If only I lived a peaceful life like you_! Nadir thought jealously.

"Good evening..." A voice called from the dark. Nadir's heart sank – it was as he had feared. He turned around to see a white mask staring back at him. An arrogant smile was spread across the face of its owner.

"I see you got my note." Erik said casually leaning against a wall with his arms folded across his chest. Nadir shook his head.

"This is low Erik…even for you .What happened after the gunshot? You simply disappeared into thin air!" The smile dropped from Erik's face.

"Where is Christine?" he demanded calmly.

"Why should I tell you that?" Nadir huffed. He could see Erik's stare becoming ominous.

"Because she is my fiancée." He said evenly. Nadir threw up his hands and laughed.

"Ha! She thinks your dead…she thinks she has no fiancée. You've had us all running around for day's thinking that you were gone!" Erik tightened his jaw "…you have done many despicable things in your time…if only you could see what you have done to that poor girl…"

"I am doing this for her!" Erik yelled "…if he thinks I am dead he will become careless. He won't be expecting to be killed by a ghost. I am simply making myself disappear for a while!"

"You're becoming obsessed with this and it's destroying everything! You could loose all you ever wanted…"

"I'm doing this to protect her." Erik said darkly "His confidence will grow; he will think he has won. And then I'll show him the true meaning of torture. All of those deaths in Persia will not be in vain, I will not be beaten Daroga – not by him …if Christine had only been honest with me from the start none of this would have happened!"

"So you're punishing her by making her believe you're dead!" Nadir snapped.

"Don't be absurd Daroga, I'm not punishing her. Everything I do is for that damned girl!"

"Where did you go? One minute you were there and the next…the Vicomte and I had to dive to miss the bullet, when I got up there was nothing…"

"And you assumed I was dead…did you not think there might be a body if I was…the fool has a terrible aim, he only served to make a hole in my new cloak"

"I didn't have time to think…next thing I knew Christine was there…"

"She went to the Ball? Why?" Erik said sharply.

"To stop you doing something you would regret! It seems she knows you very well indeed…now enough of this, Lets return to my house. Then this whole thing will be over."

"No…it's too risky. I need to stay away for a bit longer."

"And where do you intend to stay!" Nadir exclaimed. Erik smirked.

"An old home…I will come for Christine in a few days…until then, not a word to anyone Daroga…and don't let that boy near her."

Nadir shook his head. It seemed nothing was going to get through to Erik tonight. He turned to leave.

"Christine wanted to come and stay with me…It seems she wants to be close to somebody else who cared for you. But, I also care about her. So your on your own this time my boy. You have one day to tell her the truth…or I _will_ do it for you. I know you think you are doing the right thing, but you are killing the only person who has ever dared to love you."

Nadir strode away, leaving a stubborn Erik to reflect on the magnitude of his thoughtless actions. _How dare he tell me what to do! _He thought to himself darkly _I know what I'm doing! She is MY fiancée and I will protect her MY way! _He could feel his blood begin to boil. But then an image struck him, one he had buried in the recesses of his mind. A girl shrouded in candlelight crying for the memory of her father, a soul dented with loss. Praying for someone to save her from a life alone, praying for an angel. Praying like he had done all of his life. _Somebody love me…somebody save me…_

XXXXX

It was the previous evening when a nervous Raoul de Chagny made his way up the stairs of Nadir's townhouse. He was nervous to see the state of his dear friend. Her grief had consumed her, like when her father had died. And although the Persian seemed like a trustworthy fellow; Raoul remained suspicious of how much he really knew. Until the body was found he would remain sceptical of the whole situation.

Darius showed him to the room Christine had been residing in. As he entered the room his body was engulfed by a cold chill, the window was completely open and the drapes danced wildly in the winter breeze. Christine sat in an armchair facing the window. Her left hand was cupped in her right; eyes were fixed on the horizon, her mind away from thought and time.

The room was decorated in Persian artwork and crafts, magnificent ornaments stared at him as he entered the room. He felt like a stranger entering another world. He sat next to the armchair and touched Christine's arm softly. Her eyes snapped to his, they looked dry and hollow. She studied his face for a moment, as though she had never seen him before. Then she pulled them away again, no emotion showed on her lovely face.

"Christine…its me." he said slowly. "I have come to see how you are…" her expression did not change. "…please talk to me Christine…you always could before…" There were a few moments of loud silence. The clock humbly ticked away behind them, destroying the cruel tension in the air.

"When I was young…" Christine began "I imagined that I would grow up, meet a lovely rich prince and fall in love." She said with a cracked voice "It was that simple. No complications, a simple life with warmth and privilege. I suppose that's what every girl dreams…" Raoul nodded kindly. "But the world is not like that. It is cold and cruel."

"I don't understand what you mean Christine…"

"…he may not have been a prince or a noble…but he was the world to me." she choked. Raoul felt angry that she felt so much pain, also a jealous that the masked monster could conjure such emotion in her. Something he could never seem to do. She was still under his spell. Raoul felt determined that Christine needed to rejoin the land of the living.

"I do not pretend to understand your pain Lotte, I respect that you had deep feelings for…E-Erik." It almost pained him to call the Phantom by such a human name. "But at this time you will need friends and people around you who care. There are still so many people who care about you Lotte…why don't you come and take evening tea with myself and monsieur Khan…the company will do you good - please do not hide away in the darkness."

She did not look at him but he knew his words had made an impact on her. He kissed her hand softly and rose from the floor. He took one last look at her before turning and leaving the room.

XXXXX

Raoul descended the staircase and made his way to Nadir's modest lounge. His brief visit to Christine had drained him and he was in need of a warm fire and pleasant company. The corridors were darkened and he could hear hushed whispers from beyond the door. One voice was Nadir…and the other ominous tone he recognised all too well. He opened the door and strode in, his anger ready to burst. Both men stopped bickering and looked stunned at the sudden entrance of the young Vicomte.

"Marvellous! I knew it was only a matter of time before you turned up!" Erik hissed with his usual thick sarcasm.

"I knew it was too good to be true! You've come back to haunt her once again! You couldn't simply stay away" Raoul said angrily "…and you, I suppose you knew he was alive all along! You are both despicable!" Erik made a threatening step towards Raoul but Nadir held him back.

"I knew nothing until last night…I made him promise to come and tell her the truth…" Nadir said in defence.

"She is completely destroyed…she's already grieving for him!"

Erik could feel his rage simmering dangerously, he really hated this boy. He stood began to stride towards the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Nadir yelled after him.

"To see my fiancée, you were right Daroga – this has gone on long enough!" Nadir shook his head and ran in front of Erik, acting as a barrier between the masked man and the door.

"I do not think that is the best way to do it Erik…you can't just march into her room like nothing has happened! You will give the poor girl a heart attack." Erik shook his head and marched towards the couch. He sat down angrily and ran his gloved fingers through his thick hair.

"What shall I do then…_O shadow of God_?" Erik said with a mockery only Nadir was intended to understand. Nadir gave a large sigh.

"Let me speak with her first…I will speak to her calmly, I will try to make her understand..."

"Understand that she is engaged to a savage liar!" Raoul interrupted "…she will surely think you have been involved in this plot all along…perhaps I should speak with her" "

"Absolutely not!" Erik said lifting his head angrily. Raoul opened his mouth to counter attack the masked man - a loud crash of china and cutlery cut him off.

Christine stood in the doorway with her mouth agape and her hands shaking. The tray of tea and biscuits she had been carrying in pieces on the floor. All three men were staring at her in horror.

She took a moment to analyse the situation. It felt as though she had walked into a nightmare and would awake at any moment. She saw their shocked faces like three gunshots in the heart. Nadir was looking at her with remorse like she had never seen before. His dark eyes shone with pity and an unspoken apology. Raoul's eyes wondered from her face to the third figure with fury and disappointment.

The third face have been a dream or a cruel trick of the eye. The thick ebony hair was smoothed away immaculately from his face; black attire was as it had always been. He was breathing – his eyes shone with the same love they always had. And there was the mask, she shining white mask that mocked her. It represented the lies that had caused her to die herself in these last few dark days. She found her feet and made a mad charge for the stairs.

"CHRISTINE!" Erik thrust himself up from the couch and began to take violent strides after her. He tore up the stairs getting ever nearer to her fleeing frame with each large step. Nadir and Raoul were hot on his heals. Begging him to calm down and leave her.

Their pleas fell on deaf ears.

Christine fumbled up the first flight of stairs. She could her Erik yelling after her, but for once in her life she did not feel compelled to obey him. All she wanted was to get as far away from him as possible. Everything seemed to be a blur and the top of the stairs were getting further away. Finally his gloved hand grabbed her small arm and he spun her around to face him.

Erik held her left hand wrist in his hand tightly. She still wore her engagement ring but there seemed to be nothing but anger in her usually loving eyes. Christine felt something snap deep inside her, somewhere she did not know she could feel. She used all the strength her small body had hand slapped Erik across his exposed cheek. The sound bounced off the walls. Both Nadir and Raoul flinched at the sound - if anyone else had dared strike him in such a way they would not live long enough to regret it. Erik's breathing had become dangerous and ragged. Red marks began to form on his cheek.

"_You let me believe you were dead!" _Christine sobbed as she pulled her wrist from his hand forcefully and continued to run away. Erik began to stride after her once again.

"Erik wait!" Nadir called "Let her calm down…she has had a dreadful shock!"

"Stay out of this Daroga." Erik replied with dangerous calm. He tore down the corridor to Christine's room.

Christine got to her room and fumbled to find something to barricade her in. all she could manage was a small chair which she pushed under the handle in a vain attempt to block Erik's entrance. She could already hear his thundering footsteps descending down the corridor. She sat on the edge of the bed with her head in her hands, nearly suffocating on her tears. Erik entered the room with a bang. His heart broke as he saw her small body shivering on the edge of the bed. He knelt in front of her, his hands made their way to her small waist. When he spoke it was with hypnotised calm.

"_Christine, hush Mon amour…I am here, I am alive…" _her body continued to shake, and her mind refused to be blinded by the beautiful resonance of his voice. _"Look at me Christine…" _he demanded softly. He moved his hands to her wrists and pulled them gently away from her face. Her eyes remained closed tightly; acidic tears fell down her cheeks. There were too many emotions to process all at once. Complete relief that Erik was alive. _He was alive!_ Kneeling right in front of her, touching her like he had done so many times before. But there was also a bitter anger; he had wounded her so deeply with his lies. She didn't know which emotion would win the conflict in her wounded heart.

"Please look at me Christine…" he placed a soft kiss to her cold hand, his lips were hot the contact caused her pulse to race and her body to convulse. He began to stroke her cheek with his gloved hand. She let her head fall into it, but the leather was to rough against her skin. She began to pull desperately at the glove, freeing his hand. She put his bare hand back against her icy cheek, feeling soothed by his warm flesh. Erik began to stroke her cheekbone with his thumb. He hungrily remembered their last encounter…remembering how close they had been. Her eyes had closed again and he moved his face closer to hers, their breath was mingling in the night air. He leaned forward to capture her lips in a hesitant kiss. She responded slowly her mouth cautiously moulding to his. He could feel her tears fall against the exposed side of his face. His hands once again circled her waist as he continued to deepen their embrace…

"No…" Christine cried as she rose from the bed. Erik looked up at her sorrowfully. "…you can't make this better with a kiss Erik…_you made me think you were dead_…"

"I had to Mon ange…Bertrand is still a threat. If he thinks I'm dead he will become careless…it will be easier to find him."

"But why couldn't you tell me? Why am I always in the dark! I buried you in my head! I haven't slept in days because I thought I had the rest of my life to spend without you!" Erik rose to his full height and began to walk towards her slowly. She backed away. "No! I won't let you persuade me to forgive you! Please leave." Erik shook his head.

"Calm down Christine…" he said evenly.

"I want you to leave now!" she yelled as Erik looked at her in disbelief. "…you went too far this time. I love you Erik, but I don't like you at all at the moment…GO!"

Erik strode from the room with anger like he had never felt before. When he was gone Christine flew onto the bed and let her body drain itself of tears - loving and hating him in equal measure.

Erik tore down the stairs; he could feel the dark creeping back into his heart. Nadir and Raoul stood at the bottom of the staircase.

"Move" Erik hissed through clenched teeth. His body was rigid as stone. Both men stood aside without question. He strode down the hallway to the front door and thrust it open with destructive force. "Daroga…" he called over his shoulder "keep her here until she has calmed down. You know where I will be." He slammed the door with a force that shook the house to its core.

Erik returned to the beckoning dark of the house by the lake. The shrouding darkness aroused senses that he had thought extinct. This would be his sanctuary of shadow for the next few weeks. It was amazing to him how quickly the world of night returned to his primordial senses.

The Phantom was home.

XXXXX

More soon! Did you really think I'd kill off Erik! He may seem like a bit of an idiot in this chapter but I wanted to show how obsessed with having power and victory he can be! Please let me know what you think! And a big thank you to everyone that has reviewed so far!


	17. Descend into Darkness

AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last few chapters! I appreciate all comments and feedback, I'm glad you are enjoying it so far! Please keep letting me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Chapter 17: Descend into Darkness.

Christine awoke to the bustling sounds of the Paris streets. The hustle and bustle of city life had been her personal wake up call for the last few days. She could feel the lament in her heart; it was heavy and anchored her small body to the bed. Even in sleep Erik remained with her, her anger was still raw, but she missed him more than she could admit to. The ache of being without him was a torture to her heart. In her dreams they had been able to forgive and had married in a whirl of moments. She had been able to see the joy in his eyes as they were united forever under the gaze of God. The wedding night had been so real, he had been hers. His solid body had merged with hers and they had shared a night of promise and passion. She had been safe in the fierce embrace of his undying love.

The cold morning had shattered her dreams, her body was alone. Solitary in the silk sheets - her heart was stinging for the comfort of the same man that caused it so much pain. One thought continued to overwhelm her mind. Erik had come here immediately after the fire at the Opera House. She could not shake the thought that he had lay in this very same bed, yearning for her the same way she continued to long for him. The hazy lines of love and hate blurred into obscurity.

She rose and began to prepare herself for the day ahead. Nicole helped her to dress and pinned her hair up modestly. Erik had always preferred her hair free flowing and wild. But she refused to do anything that would normally please Erik, even if he wasn't around to see her. Her anger had been replaced by a bitter disappointment; he didn't respect her enough to tell her the truth. She was deemed unworthy of keeping his secrets. But the betrayal didn't end with Erik. Nadir and Raoul were also guilty of lying to her. The three men she trusted to keep her safe had betrayed her trust and her faith.

She had begun to pack the small suitcase she had brought to Nadir's when there was a soft knock at her bedroom door. She went over and opened it gingerly. Afraid Erik had returned to try and make her come home. She was both relived and disappointed to see the face of Nadir staring back at her.

"Ah, how are you this morning my dear? I wondered whether you might enjoy some air…" Christine simply stared at him, a scowl evident in her usually warm eyes. "…I can understand your anger, but there is much you don't know…will you give an old fool an hour to try and make amends?" he smiled at her genuinely and it touched her fragile soul. She needed to know more about what had happened. And since she only ever received half truths and riddles from Erik, talking to Nadir might be what she needed. She nodded slowly in acquiesce to his request.

XXXXX

The air was crisp and the smell of the city engulfed her senses. Christine had spent so long in the country with Erik that the city air seemed almost foreign. It brought back memories of her youth. She and Nadir had been walking in silence for a while, both uncertain of what to say first.

"I'm sorry Christine," Began Nadir "Please do not think I knew of what Erik had done from the beginning. I would never have allowed you to suffer so…and the Vicomte only knew moments before you did – please do not blame him for anything unjustly he is a good man...more so than I am."

"I know," she sighed "I think deep down I knew you could have had nothing to do with it. But you can appreciate how all of this has seemed to me...how could Erik let me think that? Even for a moment… How can someone you love so much lie to you so deeply?"

"Erik is many things Christine, as I am sure you are most aware…his love for you has been his only saving grace, it transcends everything else in his life. Sometimes that love clouds his judgement…I know he would never do anything to intentionally harm you…"

"You always manage to find some good in him…" Christine said distantly.

"We have been friends for many years Christine…through the good and bad. He has changed much since I first knew him in Persia." This seemed to pull Christine back to the land of the living.

"Why was Erik in Persia?" she asked inquisitively. Nadir felt his heart sink; this was not where he had intended the conversation to go. He would not survive Erik's wrath if he told Christine all about the khanum and her Angel of Doom.

"It is not my place to tell you about that my dear…I'm sure Erik will tell you in his own time…"

"Yes. Like everything else is decided in my life. By his time and on his terms" Christine said bitterly.

"Can you not find it in you to forgive him?"

"I don't know…" Christine said with a crack in her voice "…I want to more than anything, but I'll never forget that feeling. My life was destroyed in a sheet of lightening. Those words _killed_ me monsieur Khan. I thought I would never see him again, I have never felt so hollow" She stopped walking and her eyes bore into his own "…then to find it was all for nothing. I had suffered in vain, in truth I don't know if I am strong enough to forgive him. How many times will I have to die just to be close to him…?" Tears had begun to fall down her face.

"But the real question is, are you strong enough to live without him?" Nadir said taking her shoulders in his hands "I know he would rather die than cause you pain…and…he forgave you...do not forget that my child" Christine froze at his last words. Her tear filled eyes found his again and she let a painful sigh escape her lips.

"_I have paid greatly for making that choice_ - It does not give him the right to lie to me so cruelly…" her calm manner was replaced by a frosty resolve "I thank you for your company and your understanding. But I think I need some time away from all of this. I intend to visit Madame Giry and Meg in Rouen…"

"Christine…he will not like this at all…"

"He does not have to like it. I intend to leave tomorrow." She said triumphantly. Nadir could feel his temper ticking away.

"It is a most foolish idea Christine! Have you forgotten the reason all of this happened in the first place! Bertrand is still out there somewhere! Putting your anger for Erik aside, do you really want to risk that man finding you…then you really would never see Erik again. We might never be able to find if he was to spirit you away!" Christine put her face into her hands and began to sob; Nadir felt his heart break for the girl.

"_I didn't ask for any of this!_" she cried, the violent sobs wracked her small body. People in the street were beginning to stare at the distressed girl. Nadir put his arm around her waist and supported her all the way back to the house. He knew the only person that could calm her had locked himself away in the bowels of the Opera House. He needed to find another way to restore Christine's faith in humanity.

They arrived back at the house sometime later. Nicole seemed most annoyed that Nadir had allowed Christine to get into such a state.

"How did this happen?" she said angrily. "She is too fragile to get in such a state monsieur! You and my master will really be the end of that girl!"

Nadir apologised profusely, but he had already decided upon a plan of action to heal Christine's wounds. He sat at his desk and began to write a letter…

_Dear Madame and Mademoiselle Giry…_

XXXXX

_Fairmont house. _

"What do you mean…you won't help?" Bertrand hissed as he glared over at a defiant Agatha Farnsworth. She was even more stubborn today and it was begging to gnaw away at his temper.

"I will not help you monsieur Bertrand. I'm afraid you will have to find aid elsewhere. Anything to do with that girl only spells trouble for me…"

"I can pay you greatly for your help Madame. More than you can imagine…" Agatha gave a short laugh.

"Ha! Do you really think money will tempt me to get involved! You could promise to make me the queen of France and I still would not help…no price is worth the risk of seeing that man again!" her flesh paled instantly at the very thought of that mask.

"May I enquire which man you refer to with such terror, Madame?" Bertrand said as he smoothed his thick moustache with his bony fingers.

"If you need to ask then you have not met him…he nearly killed me because of what we had planned for the girl! If we peruse this he will have no qualms in disposing of both of us…and I do not know about you monsieur Bertrand, but I rather like my head where it is!" A smug smile tugged at the corners of Bertrand's mouth.

"You refer to the man whose voice could melt the heart of angels - but also make Lucifer fear his own hell." Agatha raised her thin eyebrows.

"Sounds correct…"

"Then you may sleep easier at night Madame. He has been, shall we say, _sent to meet his maker…_and I am sure it is very hot down there!" Agatha looked at him suspiciously.

"Impossible…I thought such power to be immortal! How do you know this?"

"He was as mortal as I am Madame…I saw his body fall to the floor with my own eyes! The ghost is no more…" Agatha was grinning with satisfaction.

"So, our little Miss Daae is quite alone in the world!"

"Indeed she is…" Bertrand said with a crack in his deep voice. He had to tighten his fist around his knee to calm the thoughts that relayed through his wicked mind.

"I still don't see how I can be of any help to you monsieur…it seems it will be easier to snatch the girl now. I can be of no use to you and you have nothing to offer me that would tempt me to help." Bertrand smirked again.

"I have some of my best men scouring the city to find where Miss Daae is residing, I have received word that she is often seen with a pretty red haired girl, a maid of some sorts…she would make a very attractive addition to your _little family_. I know I will certainly pay a visit…and we both know how my money keeps your little ship running _smoothly" _Agatha's interest was sparked.

"Continue." She said.

"When I find her, I intend to take both of them to my family residence in Mormant; it is a secret house my father had built for one of his mistresses. Then I will marry Miss Daae and you can have the red haired girl…along with sizable compensation for all of your help… " Agatha nodded; an evil smile was spread across her lips.

"Why are you so intent on having my help with this?"

"I need someone despicable, scheming and underhand, and you fit the bill perfectly Madame." Agatha's grin grew wider.

"Flattery will get you everywhere monsieur…it will be worth it to see the look on Miss Daae's face when she is forced to marry you! That little wretch caused me a lot of trouble; I will enjoy watching her suffer." Bertrand had clasped his pale hands together in delight.

"So, we are in agreement! Round up your best girls…I will need their help too. I shall return tomorrow and we will finalise the details." Bertrand stood and placed a bag of money on Agatha's desk, she sighed.

"Very well, you may take your pick tonight. The girls in rooms 10 and 12 are available." Bertrand smirked perversely and made his way to the stairs. Agatha stared after him, he was a good business partner but he made the bile rise in her throat. She did not envy Miss Daae a lifetime in his company.

Her mind returned to the masked man, could he really be dead? The relief was like the first morning of spring, but it seemed too easy. He was not the sort of man to just die. She pulled the large envelope out of her desk drawer. One of the sharp edges cut the skin of her finger, the blood fell neatly onto the paper. His haunting words still echoed in her mind.

"_I know everything Madame, so I advise you to follow my instructions exactly. Next time I will not pull you back over that balcony"_

It was all there in black and white. Exactly what she was to do of Bertrand was to _ever _come to her for help. And _exactly_ what would happen to her if she did not obey. The words were terrifying and she knew he had meant every inch of it. But now he was dead. Bertrand had seen it with his own eyes; she was free to do exactly what she wanted. She walked over to the fire and threw the menacing letter into its simmering embrace. She smiled wickedly as the flames consumed the paper in a dance of crackles and swirls. As the ink melted she felt satisfied. She had paid her final respects to the most formidable man she had ever met. And she knew he was still watching her, he now lived in the world beyond that of fire and flame…his reign of terror was at an end.

XXXXX

Christine had been in a hazy dream for hours.

_Images rode through her mind like warriors of the night. Figures from her past and present __returned to her one by one as if bidding some soft and distant farewell. Each one would reach out to stroke her pale cheek. But as they came closer she saw that their faces were masked. Their identity hidden from the world, and yet she knew who each of them were. She could identify them all with sound and smell…None of them were Erik. The last face to meet hers was a serpent, eyes as cold and ruthless as a storm raged sea. Dread seized her heart as she reached forward to remove the mask…the man began to laugh. A laugh that caused her soul to tremble…she began to drown in the frosty recesses of his eyes…_

She woke up soaked in a layer of icy perspiration. Her thin nightdress clung to her small frame, this was the first time she had not dreamt about Erik in days. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest the bed seemed to shake to its thudding rhythm. She continued to sit up, afraid to lie back on the damp sheets. Afraid sleep would take her back to the realm in which that man resided. And though her eyes threatened to close she bid them to stay awake.

A sound travelled through the air of night. A soft distant sound that grew louder as her heart calmed it ravenous beat. It was a harmony like none she had ever heard before, she could feel it seep into her ears and calm her racing mind. The music flowed through her body like an intoxicating euphoria and she could feel her body descend back onto the warm, inviting sheets of her bed. They no longer seemed damp with her perspiration but immaculate and dry. The music seemed like a whisper now, and the more she tried to hear it, the more tired she became.

As she lay back onto the bed she was ensnared gracefully in two strong arms. Erik buried his face into the silky tresses of her hair, finding them smoother than the silk sheets. In her fleeting moments of consciousness she knew he was there, their bodies moulded perfectly together and his masculine sent was everywhere. She felt no anger in this moment; she simply held onto his arms tightly and let her body relax into his. As sleep finally claimed her she could hear a whisper, but her mind was too tired to hear the words seemed distorted.

"_I love you Mon Ange…please forgive me…" _Erik whispered tenderly as he kissed her ear and her cheek. She looked just like an angel, sleeping peacefully in the incandescent glow of night. His hard heart began to beat for the first time in days. His scornful hate was replaced by the tender love only she could evoke in him. It was wrong to be here, it was wrong to sing her into a comatose sleep, but it was the only way he could be with her at the moment. Her conscious self was still angry, he could feel it. But he could not live with out the feel of her in his arms.

He was already slipping, the dark was like the comfort of an old friend. Reliable and familiar, it goaded his cloaked soul into the ways of his past – the ways he had tried for so long to bury. In these treasured moments with her he could see the light again. It had shrunk to the size of a twinkling star, battling out against the vast night sky. But it remained there nonetheless. _There is hope for me yet!_ He thought wretchedly. Before reluctantly tearing his body away from hers, it felt like pulling off one of his limbs. And he was certain leaving her side transcended any physical pain he would ever endure.

He left Nadir's house with a sorrowful glance back at Christine's window. His sadness turning to anger at the stinging thought that she should be his every night. He should not have to sing her into dreams and steal moments with her unconscious body. She should be in his bed every night willing and alive, just as a wife should be. _Wife _the word was hard for him to think and he did not dare test it on his tongue. It was all he had wanted her to be, to be is wife forever. To share everything the joy of human connection had to offer. But now the warmth of her kiss remained off limits to him. She had pulled away and told him to leave.

Her rejection had caused the malice to slither back into his soul. And as he made his way through the sleeping streets of Paris he knew anyone who took too much of an interest into his face would not live long. The dark was becoming intoxicating and the hate that had begun to flow through his veins was a sickening pleasure. His fingers were itching to squeeze the life from a pitiful throat. Luckily the path remained clear and as he crossed the lake to his old house he saw a familiar figure waiting for him. _This all I need! _He thought sardonically as he strode past Nadir.

"Pretending I am not here won't make me go away Erik!"

"That's a shame I was rather hoping it would!" Erik said wickedly. Nadir could not be sure if his tone was mocking or deathly serious.

"Where have you been?" Nadir demanded suddenly.

"Out"

"Oh don't play these games boy! I am not in the mood!"

"Let's just say we could have journeyed here together…" Erik said cryptically.

"So, you have been to my house to see Christine…"

"I see you're as quick of the mark as ever Daroga."

"…even though she does not wish to see you at the moment, you betrayed her trust once again!" there was a loud crash as Erik began to throw things around the already trashed room. His breathing had become ragged and dangerous. The whole place was destroyed and had been all of these months. Everything was laced in layers of thick dust. Books, broken glass and music scores littered the floors and all furniture was turned on its head.

"Thank you for the cold reminder Daroga!" Erik raged as he ticked a candle stick across the room.

"What are you doing down here Erik? Look at this place, it is certainly not inhabitable!"

"If you have come here with the soul purpose to point out the painfully obvious I suggest you leave now. I am in no mood for a lecture." Erik said in a cut throat tone.

"She will come round Erik, just give her time. Her anger is measured by the depth of her love for you…she needs to heal…" Nadir was once again distracted by the chaos that surrounded him "How can you bear to live in this mess?"

"I am not living, I simply exist. I have only been here during the day, this place makes me feel things I thought I had forgotten…it's amazing how those instincts return…" Erik said with distant scorn.

"Old habits are like Opium my boy, they are hard to give up and they rot you to your core…"

"Ha! I know all about having a rotten soul, you should know that more than anyone. Maybe I should have carried on taking the Opium and finished it for good!"

"Erik, don't say such things…now tell me what you have been doing these last few days…because it certainly hasn't involved cleaning!"

"I have been making plans…executions don't happen overnight Daroga. That man will scream for the mercy of Satan when I have finished." Nadir paled at the malice that resonated from Erik's tone. "At night I have been watching…"

"Watching - for what?"

"Anything, I need to be aware of his next move. What did you think I was going to do? Stand aside and let Christine be an open target!" Erik stood by his ruined organ, his broad back turned to his friend.

"She is safe with me Erik – I would never..."

"She is not safe. Not even with you Daroga…but I will make her safe again, that you can be certain of." Nadir realised it was time to leave Erik; nothing would pull him away from his dark musings tonight. He reached into his pocket to retrieve his watch, but all he found was an empty space.

"I think its time you were leaving Daroga…its rather late." Erik said as he tossed the watch back to Nadir, who caught it with clumsy fingers.

He left the house by the lake without a word of farewell; Erik's manner had made him uneasy. He was like a dark apparition coming back to life after years hidden in shadow. He had seen first hand Erik's grim definition of torture, and it was not something he ever wanted to witness again. He only hoped that the darkness hadn't claimed too much of Erik's fragile sanity. He hade been saved before by the tender kiss of an angel, but there was no guarantee such redemption could work again. His only hope was that Christine would find the strength to save Erik before it was too late. _Allah! Save them both from such a fate! _

Nadir had been so preoccupied with thoughts of his friends that he did not notice the tall figure that had been stalking him since he left the rue Scribe.

XXXXX

Christine awoke with a start. The dream had returned, only this time it was her who wore the mask. She had been looking into a mirror when the serpent came sneaking up behind her, the same shrill laugh shaking her heart. She tried to reach for Erik, certain that he was still beside her. She wanted to bury her face in his neck and feel safe. But there was nothing there; she was alone in the dark. Had that been a dream to? He had seemed so real, she could feel herself encased in his protective arms. Now she sat alone wanting him more than ever. She shimmied off the bed and retrieved her silk robe from the chaise; her eyes had adjusted to the dark enough for her to clumsily make her way around the room. With a few more blind steps she banged into a table and made herself jump. She could sense that her own shadow was laughing at her nervousness. She lit a small candle and felt some comfort in the modest light; the dark was beginning to scare her. Moments later she was making her way down the dark corridor, she needed to find Nicole she could not face spending another moment alone.

Two burly arms grabbed her tightly and forced a bag over her head. Christine felt panic cease her. She tried to scream but a large hand was clasped over her mouth, it was difficult to breathe. She tried to struggle but the arms of her attacker kept her firmly in place.

Nadir arrived at the top of the stairs in time to witness the horrific scene that was unfolding in his house. A heavily built man was dragging a terrified Christine down the hallway straight towards him. They seemed to lock eyes at the same time. The intruder threw Christine aside and began to charge at a shell shocked Nadir, there seemed to be no time and in a blur of painful seconds Nadir fell to the floor in heap. Christine had managed to pull the sack from her head and screamed at the sight of Nadir's unconscious body on the floor. The brute began to make his way towards her again and she made a nervous dash in the direction of her bedroom.

The sound of Nicole's scream made her stop dead in her tracks. She turned around slowly to see the brute holding a dagger to Nicole's pale throat; tears were streaming down the young girl's freckled cheeks.

"Please leave her alone…" Christine sobbed "…you can have me, please do not harm her!" Nicole was trying to shake her head.

"I'm to take ya both! Under orders y'see! Sorry poppet!" he hissed through rotting teeth.

Christine was looking at Nadir limp body, _please get up! _Her mind screamed, but his lifeless figure did not move. The brute began to inch towards Christine, his blade was still pressed to Nicole's throat and she had to move with him to avoid injury.

"Your quite alone, aren't you poppet! And so very beautiful…I wonder whether the master would let me have a go first…after all I am doing all the 'ard work coming to fetch you…what do ya say!" Christine sank back into the wall, crippled with fear. She gasped as a rope was suddenly lassoed around the brute's wide neck in what seemed like a flash of light. He released Nicole who ran to the lifeless body of Nadir and fell to the floor fighting for breath. Christine flinched at the sound of his neck snapping, his sordid life gone in an instant. When she dared to open her eyes she saw Erik standing above the body, he looked oddly calm for a man that had just extinguished the life of another. She wanted to run to him, but also to hide from him. It was still hard to accept that the man she loved so dearly was also the most dangerous man in the world.

Erik turned to the body of Nadir; Nicole had been shaking him frantically trying to get him to wake.

"He will be fine." Erik said curtly "…the old fool cannot even take a punch!" Erik lifted Nadir with what seemed like no effort and carried him to his room. A sleepy Darius appeared in the hallway.

"What happened here!" he said looking at the body in horror.

"Your timing is as impeccable as always!" Erik said viciously "…follow me boy! You will sit with the Daroga until he wakes up!"

Nicole embraced Christine and returned to her room, wanting the evening's events to be nothing more than a horrible memory. Christine felt her body trembling, the overwhelming emotion of seeing Erik kill someone stayed in her mind. And yet he had saved them all, this was the second time he had killed to save her. She returned to her room on shaky feet, she simply stood in the room. She admired the way he was able to control the situation, and even though she feared him in this moment she knew she was safe.

Erik strode into the room sometime later. He had obviously disposed of the body and Christine could not bring herself to think about what he had done with it. He took a few strides closer so that their bodies were only inches apart. Anticipation hovered in the air. Christine felt shy and almost nervous about being close to him.

"You should rest." He said abruptly. Suddenly her eyes found his "I will be keeping a close eye on the house tonight. So you can sleep soundly."

"_Thank you…" _she said weakly. Erik stood tall with his chin raised arrogantly.

"You're welcome."

"No…I mean – thank you for saving me…again" Erik gave a curt nod and turned to walk from the room.

"Wait!" Christine called after him desperately "Will you hold me?" The hard muscles in his back seemed to relax and he turned to face her, eyes ablaze with love. He picked her up and carried her over to the bed. They settled down in the silk sheets and Christine buried her face in his neck.

"_I forgive you…" _she whispered before falling asleep in his tight embrace. Erik knew sleep would not be a release for him tonight. With Christine in his arms he was more determined than ever to squeeze the life out of Bertrand. Once and for all.

XXXXX

More soon…sorry for the delay in updating this story! Let me know what you think!


	18. Frozen Morning

Chapter 18: Frozen Morning.

Christine awoke to the soft call of morning light. She had slept for what seemed like an eternity. The night had been warm and comfortable in the possessive embrace of Erik. But now she could nothing behind her. She rose onto her elbows and scanned the room. Erik stood at the window, looking out on the waking streets, completely lost in his dark thoughts. Christine crawled from the bed and tiptoed over to stand behind him; she looped her small arms around his waist and rested her face against his rigid back. Erik let out a sigh at her contact but he did not speak.

The memories of the previous night returned to Christine's mind. The helpless fear that had consumed her when the sack had gone over her head was haunting. She could not forget the way he that brute had stared at her, licking his sordid lips as he held the blade to Nicole's throat. But now that mans life was over, Erik had disposed of him with a lightening reflex. She hated the thought that Erik was responsible for yet another man's demise. The way he had killed with such skilled expertise made it clear just how many times he had murdered. She felt her veins run cold with ice that the same masterful hands that gracefully caressed her skin, were the same hands that had squeezed souls from so many men. But no thoughts – no matter how dark, could make her feel any less love for him. She unconsciously held onto him a little tighter.

"Did you sleep well…?" She whispered into the fabric of his shirt as she placed a soft kiss to his back. Erik covered her small hands with his.

"Sleep is a luxury I cannot afford at the moment." He said distantly.

"I'm sorry Erik." She whispered. "- this is my entire fault. If only I…"

"Hush Christine," - Erik commanded softly – "none of that matters now."

"But you had to kill again, to protect me…I can't forgive myself for that."

"I would kill a million men to protect you." Christine gulped at the severity of his tone. These were no mere words of affection. He meant every word of it.

"Well, I wish you didn't have to." She said softly. She let her fingers travel inside his shirt and felt the solid muscles beneath. It seemed like an eternity since they had been this close. To be able to touch freely and lovingly, for too long her feelings had been laced with anger. All she felt now were the sickening butterflies Erik could conjure up merely by speaking. She could feel his breath deepening and it hypnotised her mind. His body was so warm and so firm. For too long her arms had been bereft of him. She realised she was probably the only person who had ever touched him like this. She was the only person to ever take comfort in the warmth of his body. She felt the same throbbing sorrow she always did when she allowed herself to think about Erik's past.

Erik dislodged her arms from his waist and pulled her around so they were standing face to face. His eyes full of brimming emotions she did not recognise.

"There are to be no more lies or secrets Mon ange…from now on you must tell me _everything._ And I promise not to be angry…" Christine nodded her head slowly.

"You must promise to be honest with me too…you can trust me Erik. Please don't leave me in the dark again! I will give you the same honour you give me!" Erik grinned wickedly and stole her lips in a soft kiss. Christine smiled and let her arms travel up to his neck.

"I promise…" he said as he pulled away slowly. Christine looked at the floor.

"There is something I want to ask you." She said nervously.

"Go on."

"I know this is a painful subject – but – after we are married…would you consider _not_ wearing the mask around me?" She watched as the visible side of his face deepened into a frown. He considered her words slowly.

"So, you still wish to marry me..." he said with a raised chin.

"Of course I do….more than anything - and I don't want there to be any secrets or barriers…"

"These words are easy to say Christine. But they are very _difficult_ to mean. Do not ask for something you will live to regret…forever is a long time to be inflicted with this!" he said pointing to his mask harshly.

Christine moved her hand to his face and began to stroke it tenderly. Soothing his growing anger, he closed his eyes and let his face rest in her delicate palm. She timidly moved her other hand to his mask; her heart hammering in her chest the entire time. Nervous anticipation seized her as she began to peel it away from his face. She felt as though she were teasing a hungry lion, which could wake up and bite off her hand at any moment. Erik's eyes sprang open and he watched the reactions of her face with sharp eyes. But she did not recoil in horror; she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his ravaged cheek softly. Her hot lips welded to his untouched skin and he could feel convulsions dance though his body. He wanted more than anything to pull away and cover himself, but she continued to decorate his twisted features with velvety kisses.

"I love you." She whispered. She could see it in his eyes. The barriers were beginning to crumble, brick by brick falling away. A soft light shone from his dark pupils and he looked…human. Implicitly and normally human just as vulnerable as any other man drowning in love. She softly stroked his marred cheek, pleased that her sweet gesture had had an impact on his cold manner. After weeks of lies and torment they were completely themselves in front of one another. Naked emotions glistened in the air between them. Christine had never felt so close to him, for the first time she had been let into his hidden world.

There was a soft rasp at the door.

Erik's hazy eyes snapped back to their usual intense sharpness and his shoulders moulded back into rock. The sudden shift in his persona would have shocked anyone but Christine. This was a change she was becoming all too familiar with, in these moments she did not know where Erik ended and the Phantom began. But she had seen a glimmer of change in those fleeting moments, Erik had begun to soften. And she was probably the only person in the world able to see it. He took the mask from her and expertly placed it back over his face

"Cover yourself in this." Erik commanded handing her the silk robe she had discarded in the night. She took it and placed it around her small body.

"Tell them to come back in an hour…" she said holding onto his strong arm with both of her hands. "…it's still so early; it's so long since we have been alone together." Erik pulled her close and kissed the top of her head.

"Let me see who it is Mon ange…you get back into bed and rest."

"Oh Erik! You need to rest too…" he placed a finger over her lips gently.

"Please Christine."

She let go of him reluctantly and crawled back into the bed, she knew she would only be able to rest if he was there beside her. Erik opened the door forcefully. He was met by the nervous face of Nicole who blushed at the sight of her master.

"Please forgive the intrusion so early master – but – I thought I should inform you that monsieur Khan was awake, he is resting now. But he was asking after you when he first awoke."

"Thank you Nicole, I shall pay him a visit when he next wakes. You should get some more rest, tell Darius to watch over the Daroga." It was the first time her master had spoken to her politely and Nicole found herself mesmerised by the beauty of his soft voice. "…and be sure to pack any belongings you brought with you…we will leave the city tonight." Nicole gave a small curtsey and made her way back to her room. The thought of being reunited with Marcus made her heart jump.

Erik closed the door and looked over at Christine who was sitting up in bed with her knees pulled into her chest. She smiled at him sweetly and he felt himself gravitate towards her.

"That goes for you as well Christine…be sure to pack whatever you brought with you. We must leave the city…" Christine nodded as she busied herself in rearranging the sheets.

"I will – but for now please will you please try and get some sleep…even you need to rest Erik…" she held out her hand to him. Erik was shocked by the concern in her voice. He had lived so long with nobody to worry for his welfare that this was a truly strange thing to behold. He gave her a devilish smile and made his way over to the bed, she blushed under his intense gaze.

"I am glad that you are so eager to get me into bed…" he said as he sank down onto the soft mattress. Christine could feel her pulse quicken but she kept her face to a concerned frown. She lay down next to him and closed her eyes, unconsciously draping one arm across his stomach. Erik let his busy mind give way to sleep. It called softly like the beckoning call of a sea siren. Christine's gentle smell engulfed him and within moments he was at peace.

XXXXX

"…He should be here by now!" Agatha Farnsworth said as she paced the floor of her study. Bertrand sat fiddling with his moustache, his eyes never leaving her wondering form. "…this is your fault! You should not have given him a single Franc until the job was done!"

"So you believe he has run away." Bertrand said smoothly.

"Where else could he be? I knew you shouldn't have hired the first brawny fool to come along, and you should not have given him some of the money up front!"

"Pascal and I have had many _dealings_ in the past Madame; he knows the way I work…there must be another explanation."

"The plan was simple…wait until dark, kill the Persian, take the girls. An animal could do that monsieur!" Agatha spat. Sidney burst into the study his face was white and sweaty. "…speaking of animals" she sighed "…what do _you _want?"

"It's – about – Pascal….ma'am…." Sidney said through ragged breaths. Bertrand turned around slowly in his chair and stared at the brute with level eyes.

"Yes?" Agatha asked urgently.

"He's dead ma'am! I overheard the police…strangled…they think it was a mugging!"

Bertrand turned around again, unable to look at the simpleton any longer. Agatha was staring at him with wide eyes.

"What now!" she yelled. Bertrand remained silent for a few moments - then his eyes snapped to hers, fingers clasped together in satisfaction.

"I have an idea. The death of that brute may work to our advantage…"

XXXXX

Erik sat by Nadirs bed patiently. He had managed to sleep for two hours and now his hungry mind needed to be active. He had left Christine in a deep sleep, and he knew he would need to be at her side when she awoke, or it would be his turn to receive a scolding. Nadir began to stir and opened his dark brown eyes; he frowned at the sight of the figure dressed in formal attire and a dominating black cloak. He uttered something in his native tongue.

"I'm sure you _have_ woken up to many more a pleasant sight Daroga…" Erik hissed "…believe me it is not your bedside I wish to be sitting at!" Nadir nodded at his friend's sarcasm and began to rub his swollen face. Erik rose from his chair and walked to the window.

"Who was he?" Nadir asked wearily.

"I don't know Daroga, but he was here for Christine…and Nicole. He must have been watching for some time. I can't believe I didn't notice. When I think what could have happened…"

"But it didn't happen Erik, all thanks to you. How did you get here so quickly?"

"I followed you Daroga, I only intended to come here and make peace with Christine. That was the last thing I expected to see…Bertrand was quicker off the mark than I thought." Nadir grunted and Erik turned to face him.

"He will certainly waste no time in waiting to strike again…he will try again while we are vulnerable." Nadir said.

"While you are vulnerable…I am dead remember…"

"Even more reason for him to think he has won!"

Erik smiled wickedly at Nadir.

"Exactly…let the fool try again! He will get a most _welcome_ surprise!"

"One thing troubles me Erik, we already knew he was after Christine, but what on earth does he want with Nicole?"

"The same thing has been troubling me also…but do not fret, he will not succeed in taking either of them. We must have razor sharp wits Daroga. We must leave the city. It is not safe here." Nadir nodded.

There was a knock at the door. Erik and Nadir locked eyes and Erik turned to hide behind the door. Merging into the dark walls…only the people residing in this house could know he was alive.

Christine walked into the room brightly; unaware her fiancée was hiding behind the door.

"I thought you could do with some tea monsieur Khan." She said sweetly as she placed the tray on his bedside table.

"Ah, thank you my dear that is very thoughtful" said Nadir returning her warm smile. Erik gave a loud sigh and came out from behind the door. Christine jumped at the movement behind her, and then gave a smile at the presence of Erik.

"You should be resting." Erik said sternly. Christine raised her eyebrow with a playful smile.

"So should you." She said with mock annoyance. Erik could not help but return her smile. She poured Nadir a cup of tea and then sat in the chair Erik had been sitting in.

There was another knock at the door.

"I'm a popular man today!" Nadir said in shock. A nervous Darius entered the room, Raoul hovered in the doorway.

"The Vicomte is here to see you master…"

"I can see that Darius!" Nadir said, motioning for Raoul to enter the room. Erik threw up his arms violently.

"Marvellous! Just what we need!" he spat sarcastically. Christine shot him a pleading glance; he stared at her for a moment and then walked to stand by the window, obeying her soft command.

"What can I do for you monsieur le Vicomte?" Nadir said as he struggled to sit up in bed.

"What happened to you monsieur Khan?" Raoul asked with concern.

"We had a visit from one of Bertrand's men…luckily he came off much worse than I did…" he said as he looked over at Erik. Raoul frowned.

"So nobody was seriously hurt?" he said looking at Christine who gave him a half smile.

"No thankfully not…but it is surely only a matter of time before he strikes again!" Nadir said distantly.

"What are we going to do? I can get my men to search the city…I won't rest until we have found him!" Raoul said triumphantly.

"That won't be necessary…_we_ have everything under control." Erik said smoothly back turned to the rest of the room.

"Yes it certainly looks that way!" Raoul spat as he pointed to the injured Daroga.

"We won't need your help." Erik hissed his voice was low and dangerous. Raoul exhaled with annoyance and shook his head.

"Don't tell me what to do monsieur! You're not the 'Phantom' anymore!" Erik began to move across the room to where the Vicomte stood. Christine, Nadir and Darius looked on in horror.

"Watch your tongue boy!"

"What? Are you going to kill me for offering help?"

"I have wanted to kill you for a lot less!" they both began to edge closer to each other. Within seconds Christine had leapt up from the chair and stood in the middle of them, facing Erik.

"Stop this! Both of you!" she shouted angrily. She could see the malice burning in Erik's eyes. "…this is all happening because Bertrand wants _me…_I will have no more blood spilled on my account" suddenly Erik's eyes found hers, scorn replaced with longing. "I will not watch while you bicker, I might as well go and find Bertrand and hand myself over…this is what he wants!" Erik opened his mouth speak but was interrupted by another knock at the door. Nicole entered a moment later.

"There are two ladies here to see you Christine…" Nicole said as she took in the strange group of people in front of her.

"Who?" Christine asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It's me Christine!" said Meg Giry said excitedly as she bounced into the room "…we have come to see you!" Meg took a few seconds to analyse her surroundings. Christine, the Vicomte, the Daroga, his manservant and the Phantom were all staring at her. She suddenly felt as though she had interrupted something important.

"Have I come at a bad time?" she said as she twilled her golden locks between her fingers.

XXXXX

"Of course it's not a bad time Meg!" Christine said with a smile, trying to ignore the frowning faces of Erik and Raoul. "…come let's leave these men to their dull business…" she took Meg's hand and led her out of Nadir's chamber. She glanced back at Erik, pleading with him silently to do no harm to Raoul.

When the door had closed Erik fixed his stabbing on Nadir.

"Ah yes, did I mention I had invited the Giry's to visit Christine…?" Nadir said with a nervous smile. Erik shook his head and returned to stand at the window.

"It must have slipped your mind Daroga…but I must really congratulate you on a most splendid idea…when we are struggling to protect two women…what a good idea to invite along two more…it's a wonder the walls of the Shah's palace didn't crumble under your protection!"

"I was trying to cheer her up! To restore some of the happiness she had lost in believing you were dead!" Nadir chided. Erik remained eerily silent.

"Well, they are here now . We need to decide what to do…" Erik said stonily.

"It looks like we will need your help after all my boy." Nadir said to Raoul.

"Absolutely not!" Erik raged, "This changes nothing…I will handle it myself!"

"Will you stop being so pigheaded! Let the damn boy help!" Nadir yelled. Raoul's mouth fell open at the way the Persian spoke so brazenly to the Phantom.

Erik remained silent for a few more moments then turned to face the other three men with a smile. A controlled smile like none of them had ever seen before. There was no anger in his eyes, only an unconscious emotion none of them could fathom.

"Very well…" he said slowly "we will need a carriage to leave here at midnight…you will take the Daroga and Madame and Mademoiselle Giry. We will leave separately and meet at a secret location…if we split up it will be harder for him to track us. I will take Christine and Nicole…" Raoul nodded.

"Fine I will have a carriage here at midnight…where is this secret location you speak of." Erik frowned.

"That is the only thing that remains unclear…but I will think of something."

"No disrespect monsieur but we do not have a lot of time!"

"I know that boy…don't test my patience."

"My father has just completed work on a new house…just south of Sezanne, work was only completed a week ago…the house is completely deserted." All three men searched the masked mans visible features for any hint of approval.

"Very well…" Erik said with a raised chin, he turned his attention to Darius "…ride to my house and tell Marcus of the plan…tell him to come immediately with the carriage. And collect some more of Christine's belongings, she will need them."

Raoul replaced his hat and made his way to the door.

"I shall leave you now, I have some things to see to before this evening…until later gentlemen…" he nodded and walked from the room. Erik scowled after the young man his insides burning with hate.

"Well, I thought you handled that very well my boy…" Nadir said.

"I did that for Christine, I will do whatever I can to see that she is safe. The only thing that keeps that insolent boy alive is that I hate Bertrand slightly more than I hate him…something I never thought possible" Nadir shook his head

"Well I am grateful for his help…even if you are not!" Erik grunted and folded his arms under his cloak.

"You should think about getting dressed Daroga…its going to be a long day." He turned to Darius who paled under his gaze "I thought I told you to get moving!" Darius shrank back against the wall as Erik stormed from the room.

XXXXX

"…I cannot believe all of that has happened since I last saw you Christine!" Meg said sadly "I'd have given up a long time ago."

"I nearly did Meg…so many times. But sometimes you can be saved by the person you least expect…" she looked down at her ring lovingly.

"I cannot believe you are engaged to him…when mamman told me I almost fainted!" they both giggled.

"I know…this is not what I ever expected to happen either…but now I can't imagine my life any other way! I love him Meg…" Meg smiled warmly at her friend.

"Then that's all that matters Christine! Or shall I call you Madame le Phantom!" Christine laughed, she had missed her friend's playful nature far more than she had realised.

"Thank you Meg."

"All I want is for you to be happy Christine, but I cannot promise that I will be able to stop being scared of him…" Christine giggled to herself privately.

"He isn't so bad Meg…"

"Mamman tells me you have a lovely house! I can't wait to see it" Christine looked down sadly.

"Its Erik's house…not mine, but it is beautiful, you will love it Meg. I can't wait to go back…"

"What about the Vicomte…are you and he friends?"

"I suppose…as good friends as we could ever be given the circumstances, I'm just pleased to have him in my life in some kind of way…he is a good man…now we have talked about me for long enough! Tell me all about Rouen!" Meg laughed.

"Very well…but I'm afraid it's nowhere near as exiting as what you have been through! I'm sure mamman will fill you in when she returns from town…" suddenly Darius ran into the sitting room, out of breath with a nervous look on his face.

"Good day Christine…Mademoiselle Giry!"

"Where are you off to in such a hurry Darius?" Christine asked with a smile.

"No time to explain…" he said as he hurried from the room. Meg gave a hearty laugh.

"Is he always that odd?" Christine giggled along with her friend.

"Yes…In fact, that was him at his most normal!"

XXXXX

Night time came quickly; Erik and Madame Giry had been talking in the sitting room for some time. The other residents of the house had jumped at the raised voices. Presumably Madame Giry was scolding Erik for his little game of life and death. But they all knew Erik was not a man to be lectured.

Christine was in her room packing the last of the belongings she had brought with her. She was wearing a simple black dress and travelling coat, her hair was swept up in a bonnet. She could feel a heavy lament in her heart. They were not going to return to the house on the hill, instead they were running. Her happy reunion with her best friend and guardian had been short-lived. For she now felt the same consuming fear her soul had possessed all of these months. She felt totally uncertain of her future. The only comfort to her was that she would not have to be parted from Erik again. That was something she could not handle. Moments later Erik strode into the room his cloak fanning out behind him as he walked.

"You should have done that earlier Christine…" he snapped. She could tell Madame Giry had given him a stern talking to.

"I was speaking with Meg most of the afternoon; I haven't seen her in so long…"

"Of course…" Erik sighed "forgive me I should not have snapped at you." He put his arms around her and held her small body to him tightly. "I know you are eager to return home…I promise this will all be over soon – then Madame Giry and Meg can stay with us for as long as they like…" Christine smiled into the fabric of his shirt.

"Thank you – I love you so much Erik" she could feel his arms hold onto her a little harder.

"_Erik the Vicomte is here!" _Nadir called through the mahogany door.

Erik let go of Christine reluctantly and stole her lips in a hard kiss. Christine could not find her breath. "_I love you_…" he sighed as he pulled away. "And I will always be here to protect you…don't forget that!" Christine nodded and Erik grabbed her small case from the bed. Her took her hand and led her from the room.

Madame Giry, Meg and Nicole were waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Meg let a giggle escape when she saw Christine.

"Oh Christine look at us! We are dressed almost identically!"

"You used to always do that when you were girls!" laughed Madame Giry. Christine smiled but her nerves were eating away at her. She would not feel safe until they had left the city. Erik disappeared momentarily and then reappeared wearing a fedora, his face completely hidden.

"Come, its time."

Nadir took Madame Giry and Nicole first, to where Raoul and Marcus were waiting to help them into their respective carriages. Christine was holding Erik's hand so tightly he thought it fingers would go numb.

"Relax Mon ange…it will be ok." Erik whispered. The three of them made their way onto the deserted street. Something began to pull at Erik's cloak. He turned to see an old beggar woman pleading for money; she was groping the expensive fabric and trying to reach for Christine. Erik gave the old woman a gentle shove away, throwing some money at her. They continued to walk towards the waiting carriages.

"That's not a very nice way to treat an old lady…" came a husky voice from behind them.

"Get to the carriage now…" Erik whispered to Christine.

"I won't leave you Erik…" she protested.

"Do as I say…go." The two girls obeyed and began to run toward the carriages. "_Why is nothing ever simple_?" Erik cursed to himself. He heard a punch from behind him. Raoul stood over the body, an unconscious beggar man at his feet. Erik could not believe his eyes.

"Come there could be more lurking nearby…they can get violent when they have been drinking…" Erik shook his head and the two men made their way across the street. The girls were sharing a farewell embrace by Erik's carriage.

"You won't be apart for that long…come on! We have no time to waste!" Erik found Christine's arm and pulled her into the carriage, she seemed to squeal in protest but he yanked the door closed and moments later they had sped away

"Why did you do that monsieur?" Meg said raising her head. Erik felt his heart sink. In his panic he had forgotten that they were dressed the same. And they had covered too much ground to turn back. "I tried to tell you that I wasn't Christine…but you are very strong monsieur!" Nicole was looking at them both in horror; Erik called for Marcus to stop the carriage. It would be quicker for him to take the reins…and he did not want Christine and Raoul to be alone without him for any longer than was absolutely necessary.

He did not know what awaited them on the road to Sezanne but he was determined to be back with Christine as soon as he could.

XXXXX

More soon…sorry for the delay!


	19. Uncharted Territory

Chapter 19: Uncharted Territory.

The carriage jutted and slammed down the winding country lanes. Darkness was spread out to the horizon offering neither guidance nor desertion. Nadir squinted into the gloom facing it like an enemy, the horses continued to charge and the clumsy of light of the lanterns showed shaky images of haunted trees. _This is impossible!_ He thought wryly _but no plan of Erik's could ever be simple!_ He gave the reins a lash, the horses winced loudly and continued to race forward.

Inside the carriage the four companions sat in a calm silence. No words could distil the atmosphere. The only noise came from the jolting wheels and clapping horse hooves. Christine had been in silent shock since they had fled the threatening streets of Paris. The look of horror on Megs face when Erik had dragged her into his carriage was etched into her mind. And had the situation been less dire, she would have had to laugh. _What madness is this! _She thought to herself _All of us fleeing Paris because a man wants to marry me! _But she knew deep down what harm that man was capable of, for it second only to her current fiancée. Oh how she wished she could be with Erik now. The night always seemed less ominous when she was protected by the wing of its master.

"We will need to stop somewhere and rest…" Raoul said breaking the silence. "We seem to be making good speed, and they have taken the longer route…" Madame Giry and Darius nodded sleepily, life sprang into Christine's brown eyes.

"Is that wise Raoul…we do not know who may be following us, it could be risky. We should not deviate from the original plan…" Raoul frowned.

"Have faith in me Lotte, we weren't followed when we left Paris…I'll bet we are the only people out on this stretch of road tonight." Christine began to twist her fingers together nervously in her lap.

"I'd still rather just go straight to your father's house…we will be safe there…"

"You are safe now." Raoul said firmly, knowing full well she was in a hurry to be reunited with Erik. The one person he hoped never to see again. His jealousy stung like a cold blade in his flesh. "I will speak with monsieur Khan and determine what he makes of the situation…if he is tired Lotte, we will need to stop and rest. He has been the one driving all this way." Christine nodded slowly, knowing Erik would not like this situation at all. But as she looked at the shattered faces of Madame Giry and Darius she knew guilt would whisper to her for the rest of the journey if they did not stop.

Raoul stood up and began to hammer the roof of the carriage with his hand.

"Monsieur…Khan!" he yelled out of the window "Stop…"

The carriage began to slow, Nadirs' voice called out to the horses to stop. When they were completely still Nadir jumped down from the driver's bench. Raoul opened the carriage door and climbed down to meet the Persian.

"Let me take over for a while, you have taken us far enough in this dark maze…" Raoul said kindly.

"I think we will be greeted by the sunset soon my boy, It has been many hours since we left Paris…" Nadir looked to the dim horizon thoughtfully "I wonder how Erik is getting on…"

"He is surely in his element in this dark terrain." Raoul frowned.

"Yes, I daresay he is…he's probably got them to your estate by now! And in truth they should be many hours behind us."

"Nothing would surprise me where he's concerned…how are you feeling monsieur Khan? Are you in need of some rest?" Nadir considered his words for a few moments.

"Rest? Ah, now there's a word that seems foreign to my ears…I do not think we have time to rest my dear boy."

"Absurd! Of course we do monsieur…as you said yourself they will be many hours behind us, once we get there we will have nothing to do but wait. I think a few hours rest would be beneficial to us all…in fact I insist we take refuge at the next Inn we pass!"

XXXXX

It was approaching the earliest moments of dawn when they descended upon the Le Inn Vipere. It sat proudly at the side of the road, amerced in the dispersing darkness. Its white exterior made it like a beckoning lantern to weary travellers. Five of which now approached from the dust laden road.

Nadir and Darius helped Christine and Madame Giry down from the carriage as Raoul instructed the stable hand on how to care for his blue blood horses. A round gentleman made his way outside, smiling at the disheartened visitors.

"Good evening - or shall I say good morning!" he chuckled to himself "…am I right in thinking you will be needing accommodation? You all look very weary indeed!" Nadir opened his mouth to speak.

"That is a correct assumption monsieur," said Raoul, taking control of the situation. Nadir closed his mouth and frowned at the boy. "I am Victor Lignier, and this is my sister…Catherine." Raoul said pointing to a shocked Christine who gave an impromptu curtsy "…and this is our aunt…Mary" Madame Giry nodded in the direction of the Inn keeper. Nadir stepped forward offering his hand to the man. "…And this is my good friend…Azir!" Nadir had to suppress the urge to laugh at the young Vicomte's awkward cover story.

"I will never remember all of that!" chuckled the Inn keeper merrily "My name is George, and you are in luck…I have six rooms left this evening, come let me show you all inside!"

XXXXX

Christine sat on the edge of her modest bed; she had none of her own belongings with her and had to be satisfied with borrowing what Meg had packed for the journey. She took off her bonnet and braided her long hair. The room was small and compact; there was something appealing about its cosy demeanour. Homeliness she had missed since living in the large manor houses of Erik and Raoul. She moved to the window and watched the hopeful transition of night into day. It was a pleasant reminder that there could be a bright ending to any nightmare. There was a soft knock at her door, Christine walked over and opened it boldly. Remembering Madame Giry was going to call on her before she retired to bed.

Instead Raoul stood facing her, his cheeks reddened into a slight blush.

"Hello Raoul," she said warmly "Is everything ok? I thought you were eager to rest…"

"Err – yes of course I am Lotte…I just wanted to check that you were ok…" he said nervously, crumpling his hat in his large hands. Christine searched his face with her eyes questioningly. "…I have settled the bill with the Inn keeper…he made me a very fair deal…"

"Oh, forgive me Raoul…I do not have any money with me but I'm sure Erik will settle it with you when we…"

"No…no Christine I did not mean – I do not want _his_ money…you mistake my meaning." Christine continued to stare at him awkwardly "…can I?" he said motioning with his hand inside her room. Christine looked at him nervously "…I only want to talk Christine…" Christine's heart pelted inside her, she knew this was a bad idea, but Raoul seemed so at odds. Something must be troubling him. What kind of friend would she be if she turned him away? She stood aside and allowed him to enter.

"Is everything alright Raoul?" she said as she took a seat in one of the humble chairs. Raoul sat down momentarily before standing up again anxiously and pacing the room.

"I wanted to speak with you…privately, I have wanted to for so long…but there never seems to be a good time."

"What's troubling you?" she inquired kindly.

"I need to know something…something that's been eating away at me like poison since I found out about Bertrand's pursuit of you…"

"What…" Christine asked with a lowered gaze.

"Was…was it him that drove you away from me? We seemed so happy and then..."

"Then I left." She said slowly.

"Yes…you left. And I cannot let myself rest until I know the real reasons why…it seems my heart is not as mended as I first thought…" Christine could feel a wholesome guilt pulsate in her soul, she was sure her body was shaking.

"I have lived in a prison of guilt since the day I left you…I am confined to the fear Bertrand inspires inside me…he said that even if I married you there would still be ways, he said I would never be free of him. He never cared anything for your family's friendship…only my misery" Raoul sank down into the opposite chair slowly.

"I'm so sorry Christine…I was so caught up in my own happiness I was blind to your suffering…I cannot blame you for wanting to leave that world behind" Christine attempted a wry half smile. "If there is any forgiveness to plead for, I think it should come from me, I want to protect you Christine will you let me do that?"

"Raoul you have already done so much! It is me that needs to make amends."

"Then…let me be there for you Lotte," he said edging a little closer to her "like I was before. Let _us_ be as we were before…let me be your freedom Christine…"

Christine could not breathe; her lungs seemed to reject the flow of air. She stood and walked to the window wanting to escape into the free space beyond.

"Raoul you mustn't say such things." She said evenly as she held onto the windowsill for support. "…it cannot be like it was before."

"Why? Are you afraid to leave Erik? I told you…you don't have to be afraid anymore…not of anything. We could go now, and he would never be able to find us"

"You have asked for my honesty Raoul, and I will be honest with you…Bertrand was the reason I ran, the final dark reason that allowed me to see the light…" Raoul sat and listened intently a frown forming on his handsome visage "that night in the opera house, the last night, the night Erik almost…" She could not seem to say the words.

"Almost killed me..." Raoul said flatly. Christine gave a hesitant nod.

"I kissed him to save you, but I…opened something inside myself. Maybe something that should have never been opened, but it hammers in my heart and soul fiercely…every second of day and night." She was staring out to the horizon dreamily. "For so long I did not know what to call this feeling, it always felt so wrong and I wanted to hide from it. But now I know…its not admiration or desire…its love, a burning love I cannot deny or suppress. I could live an eternity and never taste enough. And so you see I am afraid…but I am not afraid of Erik. I am afraid of my feelings for him…and I know now I could never leave him."

Raoul tried to moisten his dehydrated throat, but even if he had the power to speak it would be an exhausted croak. Christine stood still with her back to him, she looked to be trembling. And for the first time in his life he felt no desire to comfort her with a soothing touch. This misery she shook from was self inflicted, she had admitted it herself. And he knew subconsciously she enjoyed the pain, she craved it like the sweet smell of opium. And he could feel no sympathy for her. Her words had stung him, but also made him see the world with new crystal clarity. Her kiss with the Phantom had killed their love, and he needed to set himself free. There was no space for them to be together in this lifetime.

"You're angry with me…" she whispered brokenly "I knew you would be. But you deserve the truth; I only wish I had been able to tell you sooner."

"It seems you have only recently realised this truth yourself." Raoul said distantly. Christine turned to face him with sad eyes. Raoul wanted to be angry with her, he wanted to hate her, but it was impossible. He could never hate someone he loved so dearly.

"I'm not angry with you;" He sighed "you have only done what I requested of you. And I think I knew…deep down, that you loved him. I think I always knew, but I could not suppress my hopes." Christine walked back to the chair and held his hands in hers.

"I am sorry Raoul…I was never worthy of your love – all I wish for now is your happiness" he smiled at her warmly, feeling a new strength from somewhere inside.

"I know you're sorry…but you cannot be sorry for how you feel. None of us can live a lie. And now I want you to let go of that guilt. You have suffered enough, and I will not be on the list of those causing you pain. Just promise me one thing…"

"Yes, anything…"

"Promise me we will always be there for each other as friends…" Christine smiled.

"Of course, nothing would make me happier Raoul"

"Except some sleep I expect!" he said as he rose from the chair "…rest Lotte, Madame Giry will call on you when it is time to rise" Christine smiled and watched him go. Her guilt was raw and she knew she would not be able to rest. But she consoled herself with the knowledge that everything was out in the open. She had found a new type of solace with her childhood friend. She returned to the window and looked out to the vast horizon. Her thoughts running out to meet the rising light…her heart yearning to be reunited with Erik.

XXXXX _meanwhile… _

"We're stopping here!" Erik yelled through the window of the carriage. The tired faces of Marcus, Nicole and Meg stared up at him with exasperation. "…it shouldn't take more than a few hours to reach the de Chagny mansion; we are greatly ahead of schedule…"

"_That's because he dives like the headless horseman!" _Meg whispered to her companions. They both gave her a nervous smile, knowing their master was not a man to be mocked. Meg however, seemed to be oblivious to his ominous mood. She jumped down from the carriage and stretched gracefully, taking in her surroundings.

"Why have we stopped here monsieur Erik?" she said boldly.

"I thought a short rest would be beneficial to you all…" he said, looking into the dark woodland. It expanded out from the side of the road, overgrown and wild. Meg glided over to his side and followed his eye line. Erik seemed completely hypnotised by the woodland, lost in hidden memories. Meg could see nothing but the bland reality of trees and bushes, the darkness of the wood was making her feel uneasy.

"You should all wait here." Erik commanded evenly "I will return shortly…" and before any of them could question or comment he had disappeared into the enveloping darkness. Meg stared after him in wonderment, how could one man carry such an awe of mystery? Something had coaxed Erik into the undergrowth, did he know this place? Or was he unconsciously drawn to the thick shadow…

XXXXX

Erik stalked through the wood with the grace and silence of a jungle panther. Dawn was creeping through the trees slowly and birds began to rejoice in their song of morning. The dark still lingered subtly, and a less trained eye would assume it still to be night. But Erik had long ago learned the difference between night and day.

He stopped at a small stream that cut straight across his path. He watched as the smooth ripples scurried toward their unknown destination, in an endless circle of flowing life. He remembered a small boy lingering at the side of a stream, and the stinging tears that had fallen into its confines. He wondered where those tears were now, and if they were still cradled in the limbo of water.

This was not the same stream, and this was not the same wood. But it had called to him from the side of the road. That memory had called to him, a small boy set adrift in a soulless world. He remembered staring at his reflection, to afraid to lift the mask and look at the haunted face beneath. That mask protected him from a world amerced in cruelty. Nobody cared and he did not have a care for the rest of the world. It was in this moment he had realised his life would be one spent in solitude.

This memory had changed the rest of his life, for it had come before everything, before the Gypsies, before Russia, before Persia and…before Christine. It was a moment he had needed to revisit, a moment that came long after one woman had driven him away and long before another would learn to accept him.

Yet as he thought more about Christine the boy began to fade, back to his home in the realm of memory. _For you are no longer alone in this world…_a soft voice echoed in his heart. A familiar and soothing voice that made him feel strong again. He turned on his heal and strode away from the stream, _away from the boy_. It was time for him to try and live in the present and extinguish the past.

XXXXX

Erik found his way back to the abandoned carriage with no difficulty. He banged on the door once and opened it strongly to reveal Marcus and Nicole cuddled together in slumber. He felt a slight twinge at witnessing their closeness and it made him think hungrily of Christine. The pair shot awake and untangled themselves from their dreamy embrace.

"Where is mademoiselle Giry?" Erik asked with a frown. Nicole's eyes shot to the empty seat opposite them.

"Mon dieu!" She said in horror "…she was there master, I saw her with my own eyes before I fell asleep!" Erik slammed the side of the carriage with his fist fiercely and took several violent strides up the dusty road. He needed to calm himself; he could feel his anger simmering away. Meg was nowhere to be seen. _Damn that inquisitive child! _He thought angrily. He knew from the days at the opera house that she was curious about his world; she had always been intrigued by mystery. And she had seen him disappear into the undergrowth. Erik strode back to the carriage where Marcus and Nicole anxiously awaited his diagnosis of the situation.

"Wait here…I will attempt to find our wayward mademoiselle…if I have not returned in two hours carry on to the house and inform the others of what has happened…" they both nodded dumbly, Erik fixed his gaze on Marcus "Are you clear of the directions to the de Chagny residence?" Marcus nodded again. "Good." And with that Erik turned swiftly on his heal and strode back into the dark wood.

XXXXX

Erik tore through the wood, shoving branches and leaves out of his way violently. He felt certain that Meg had followed him. She would have been curious to see what had beckoned him into this domain of darkness. As he approached the stream he could see a small figure crouched next to a tree stump. Her knees were pulled into her chest and she was sobbing into her hands. Erik approached her slowly.

"Such inquisitiveness will get you killed." He said silkily, leaning against another tree with his arms folded underneath his cloak. Meg jumped and stared up at the masked man with a blend of relief and fear. "…why did you follow me?" Erik asked firmly. Meg shrugged her small shoulders. She continued to stare at him; he seemed at home in this dreamlike empire.

"I'm sorry…" she whispered nervously, unable to look him in the eye. "I thought it would be exiting." She could hear the stupidity of her own words. Erik was trying hard not to snap.

"Follow me." he commanded firmly. He turned and began to stride through the wood. Trying hard not to show his relief at finding Meg unharmed. Meg jumped up and began to trot after him. She was no longer afraid of what could be lurking nearby, for nothing they met would be as threatening as Erik.

They found the carriage and were greeted by the relived faces of Marcus and Nicole. Erik climbed back onto the driver's bench.

"Marcus!" he called, the young man came to his master's side. "…do not let that foolish girl out of your sight until we reach the de Chagny residence. Neither of us would survive the wrath of her mother if anything were to happen to her!" Marcus nodded and the three of them climbed into the carriage. Erik lashed the reins and they sped away into the distance.

XXXXX

The new de Chagny residence was a true splendour. Christine stared up at it in awe as she jumped down from the carriage.

"This place is wonderful Raoul!" she said. Madame Giry nodded in agreement.

"Indeed, this is the first time I have seen it with my own eyes. It was only completed a month ago."

"Well it is beautiful; I've never seen a house like it! What is it for?" she said excitedly. Raoul looked down sadly.

"It was meant to be a wedding gift." Christine looked at him in shock.

"Ah here they are!" an oblivious Nadir called as Erik's carriage descended down the long driveway. Raoul turned away from Christine and He and Nadir walked over to meet the arriving party. Erik jumped down from the driver's bench, his eyes searching wildly for Christine.

"That didn't take you long Erik!" Nadir said in shock "…you should still be miles away!"

"You know me Daroga; I don't like to hang around." Nadir laughed merrily at his friend. Meg emerged from the carriage sheepishly and ran to her mother.

"So, what do you think of the place Erik! Isn't it marvellous?" Nadir said with a chuckle. Erik scanned the large building with his eyes. His lips twitched into a smirk.

"Yes, I suppose it is Daroga. I'd like to meet the Architect!"

"Shall we go inside?" Raoul said "I have taken the liberty of arranging some staff, they have been expecting us." Nadir nodded and the party made their way into the house.

Erik lingered by the carriage and continued to stare up at the house; the sight of Christine pulled his eyes away from the building. She was looking at him with wide eyes, seeming both distant and close. They walked to each other slowly, eyes locked together in a dance of longing. When their bodies met she looked up at him with a warm smile.

"Hello…" she whispered sweetly. Erik returned her smile, and let his eyes roam over her lovely face. He began to stroke her cheek with his gloved hand. She reached up and pulled the glove from his hand, she needed to feel his warm skin on hers. They stayed this way for a few blissful moments, Christine had let her eyes close, hypnotised by his enchanting caress. Erik pulled her into his arms forcefully, and she gave an exited cry.

"…when all of this is over" he whispered "We will marry and I will never let you be free from my side!" Christine could feel a hot blush consume her body as she imagined married life with Erik. Her heart was beating violently.

Erik stared up at the house; the handsome face of Raoul de Chagny looked down at the reunited couple. Erik could not suppress his satisfied smirk, Christine was his now, and the boy could do nothing but look on in jealousy.

Raoul could feel his jealously poisoning his heart. He could accept that Christine no longer loved him but he could not accept her love for that dark monster. She was bewitched with some kind of spell. Erik had a dark power that controlled her every whim. She was not free in her love, Raoul felt certain of it.

"Are you alright monsieur le Vicomte?" a sweet voice called from behind him. Raoul turned to see Meg Giry eyeing him curiously.

"Yes, of course I am mademoiselle! How do you like the house?" he said trying to forget about Christine and Erik.

"Oh it is simply wonderful monsieur! I think it's the most perfect house I have ever seen!" Raoul was touched by her charming nature.

"Please mademoiselle Giry, call me Raoul, we do not need this strict formality!" they smiled at each other sincerely for a few moments. Madame Giry entered the room and pulled them back to reality.

"This place is wonderful monsieur." She said, staring at the pair suspiciously.

"Thank you Madame, I only wish we were all here under happier circumstances." Madame Giry nodded in agreement.

"Come Meg, we should make ourselves useful and prepare some tea…" she nodded to Raoul and pulled Meg from the room. Meg followed her mother, with a backward glance at Raoul. She gave him a sweet smile before being pulled from the room. When they had gone Raoul returned to the window with a shake of the head.

"This is a most unwelcome inconvenience!" he sighed.

XXXXX

Bertrand's horse trotted merrily down the dusty road. His owner sat atop of his horse with arrogant posture, like a prince returning from battle. The death of Pascal had caused a flurry of police activity in Paris. It seemed there had been a similar death in Beauvais only a month earlier. The Parisian authorities were convinced a killer was on the loose. _A crazed madman with a lust for blood…_one woman had whispered to her young children. _We must all be on our guard; these streets are no longer safe! _Bertrand did not believe such ludicrous rumours, but things had played out to his advantage. While the police hunted for their imaginary killer their guard was significantly lowered. They would not notice an increase in other vices; or the abduction of onetime divas.

"_A diva that has vanished into thin air!"_ Agatha raged inwardly as she sat in Bertrand's luscious carriage. They were on their way to a secluded Inn that Bertrand often used to secure his most secretive business deals. There were two men he wanted Agatha to meet, two men that could help them immensely. She had brought Nicolette with her; she had selected the girl as her benefactor when she died. And it would take years to turn the girl into an unfeeling wraith like herself.

They approached the Inn le Vipere and Bertrand jumped down from his horse. The Innkeeper came out to greet them.

"Monsieur Bertrand! How lovely to see you again!"

"George you know your quaint little Inn is a particular favourite of mine!" Bertrand smirked. Agatha had emerged from the carriage and came to stand at Bertrand's side. She eyed the Innkeeper with distaste. "George this is Agatha Farnsworth, she is a business partner of mine."

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Madame!" George said merrily.

"Yes…likewise." Agatha sneered with a curl of the lip. George did not seem to notice her rudeness.

"Bertrand there are two men waiting for you…." George said nervously "I sent them through to the back room like normal…"

"Thank you George…" Bertrand said silkily as he handed him a bag of coins "For your continued loyalty!" George nodded and took the coins gratefully. Bertrand turned to Agatha and Nicolette.

"Come, there are some old friends I wish you to meet!"

XXXXX

More soon! Don't forget to give me a little review : ) x


	20. Lucien and Richmond

AN: Sorry, I have had no internet connection for what has seemed like an eternity! That is why this chapter has been delayed! I hope you like it!

Chapter 20: Lucien and Richmond.

_Brussels__ 1860. _

_The night air was crisp,__ the subtle stench of death clung to the inside of Lucien Piccard's nostrils. The smoke from the gun was rising slowly, mixing with the innocent air of evening. Its intoxicating smell distilled into the purity of the fresh atmosphere. His eyes lay fixed on the body before him. His dilated pupils analysed the lifeless corpse. The woman lay face down in the flowing brook, the water softly caressing her limp face. Her blood merged with the water to make a sickly cocktail of death. Bertrand stood opposite him, his hands shaking. The pistol lay at his feet._

_They said no words for what seemed like an agonising eternity, each moment lapsing painfully into the next. _

"_Why?" Lucien asked, his voice was hollow and faint "Why did you save me?" Bertrand looked at the body for a few more moments. When his black eyes met Lucien's, they betrayed no feeling. _

"_Why?" Bertrand echoed "because she was going to kill you! She would have ruined everything…it is better this way…" Lucien eyed him suspiciously. _

"_I would have deserved it! She__ had found out Edward…she was going to tell your father…" _

"_That is precisely why she had to go…" Bertrand said firmly "…she would have told my father, and you would have been sent to the gallows – what would have become of your brother then!" _

"_Richmond can never know about any of this…he has nothing to do with this Edward!" _

"_I know that…but my father would never see it that way. I did that to protect him as much as you. Now go, I will dispose of this…" Lucien let his eyes wonder over her body one last time. He turned away from Bertrand, and began to walk slowly towards the house. "Lucien…" Bertrand called softly "…I have eliminated your vermin…the time will come when you must help me dispose of mine!" _

XXXXX

Agatha and Nicolette followed Bertrand into the small room. Daylight shone through one small window and lit the room in an intriguing fashion. Two men sat at a table, a bottle of brandy and two glasses in front of them. Nicolette observed them curiously. One was young, possibly a few years older than herself. He had a dark face and his features did not stand out, he looked as though he had not lived life at all. There was nothing about him to suggest weather malice or kindness triumphed in his soul. He was blank. The other was older, but probably not as old as he looked. Forty at the very most. This man looked worn, like a storm ravaged rock. His inquisitive eyes peered out from under overgrown eyebrows, as if in a constant search for something that would never be there. He held onto the brandy glass as if it were a lifeline. He had lived, she could tell that much. But he looked like a man that had lived longer than he was intended to. This man should have died years ago.

"A pleasure to see you both again…" Bertrand hissed merrily. "Ladies, may I introduce you to the Piccard brothers…Lucien and Richmond." Both men nodded absently in the direction of the women. Nicolette gave a polite curtsey, Agatha a curt nod.

Nicolette remained standing as Bertrand and Agatha sat down opposite the two men. She felt a wave of apprehension hit her at what could transpire in this room. She wanted no part in the abduction of Miss Daae, she actually liked the girl. But her own circumstances were so dire; in truth she had little choice. Agatha Farnsworth owned her, and the thought made her sick.

"Gentleman, I have one last request of you before you are released from my service forever." Bertrand said haughtily. Lucien's eyes snapped up from the amber liquid.

"More vermin to discard of have we?" he said. Nicolette was stunned by the sadness in his tone. A smirk threatened to overtake Bertrand's mouth, but he managed to keep it to a grim line.

"You know me so well."

"…Who is it this time?" Lucien grunted.

"A Persian and a Vicomte…"

"Persian?" Lucien said in dismay "…you didn't say anything about that in your letter, I've come across their sort before, I don't want to…"

"Is there a problem?" Bertrand sneered.

"It's no problem." Richmond interrupted darkly. "…but it will cost you extra…" Bertrand grinned wickedly.

"I always did like you, I'm sure we can come to some sort of arrangement. But I need this to be your best work…I know how good you two can be at making things look _accidental_" Richmond nodded, mirroring Bertrand's smirk.

Lucien closed his eyes; he could still see the face of Bertrand's brother. Pleading for his life, the best man Lucien had known killed by his own hands. He had killed the elder brother because he owed his life to the younger one. Not a day went by when he didn't regret the murderous actions of his past. Time could not heal raw guilt. And now he saw the same unfeeling malice in Richmond. His younger brother was becoming more like Bertrand each day, driven my greed and lust. He no longer recognised the sweet boy he had looked out for all of his life.

"…There is something else." Bertrand said as he smoothed his moustache. "I feel I should tell you both the reason for this _assignment, _it is different to the others…" Lucien rubbed his chin nervously "There is a young lady who has captured my special attention, she has, resisted my advances thus far – but she will see sense."

"And what does she have to do with these two men?" Richmond asked.

"She is currently under their protection, her finance is recently deceased…you must remove them and bring her to me. You may use any means necessary, but she is not to be harmed in any way…not a scratch. I do not want my prize to be damaged."

"What about the other girl, the one you promised me?" Agatha asked with pursed lips.

"…Yes the same goes for her, no harm to be done." Bertrand said.

"And where are we to find these girls?" Lucien asked.

"…I'm still working on the finer details, Nicolette here is at your disposal for any help you may need…she is an excellent actress. It should not be too hard to locate the young Vicomte; his elder brother is a personal friend. I will determine his current location, and then we strike!"

Nicolette felt her body sink backwards into the wall. If she hadn't taken Christine to Fairmont House all those months ago, none of this would be happening. She would have slipped through Bertrand's slimy grasp and be free. She felt sheer pity for Christine Daae, and the complete waste of a bright young life. _I hope you are far away Christine! Please keep running… I am so sorry for what I am about to be part of!_

XXXXX

"Erik…" Christine said as she came to sit next to him on the chaise.

"Hmm…?"

"Why were the roses you gave to me so different?" her question pulled his mind away from his book. He looked up at her radiant face and smiled. "…They seemed so different to all of the other roses I have seen, where were they from?"

"Now that would be telling my dear…"

"Please tell me!" she laughed playfully, pulling his book out of his hands, she stood up, holding it behind her back.

"…some secrets can never be revealed… especially mine. If I were to tell you, I could not let you live to tell it…" Erik teased. Christine pouted mockingly and sat down close to him. She threw the book into his lap and rested her head against his shoulder. Erik let his eyes close lightly, feeling his heart swell in her delightful presence. _This is all that matters now _he thought _I would forsake everything for a million of these blessed moments. This is how life should be._

"We will be alright, won't we Erik?" Christine asked, her voice becoming serious "I don't think I could be parted from you again. Not now..." Erik felt her grip tighten around his arm. He kissed the top of her head and inhaled her soothing scent; he entwined his fingers with hers.

"We will be Mon Ange, I promise. This will all be over soon, and then we can return home…or anywhere you like. My future is wherever you wish to be." Christine held onto his arm, never wanting to let go.

"Why don't we go now…?" She said sitting up suddenly "we could run away, Bertrand does not know where we are, we could leave France…then it really would be over…" she began to stroke his exposed cheek with her fingertips "It could just be you and me…_forever_" Erik felt a new kind of sorrow, these were the words he had wanted to hear all of his life. But now they came at the wrong moment.

"It would be one more person to hide from." Erik said darkly "There would always be a risk; you would be jumping at shadows forever. I will not put you in that danger." She looked at him sadly for a few moments, knowing he was right. There were too many people involved now, running was not an option. "Tell me what you wish to do when it is over, tell me what you want, and I will make it so." He said, twisting one of her curls around his finger.

"…I want to sing again" she said dreamily. "I miss music being in my life; I've almost forgotten how it feels. I miss the liberty it brings to my soul…"

"You will sing again…" Erik mused "When the time is right Christine, we will both sing again, together. Our music will find us…"

XXXXX

Lucien studied the small portrait that lay in the palm of his weathered hand. The innocent eyes called out to him, they were privy to some kind of untold passion. They seemed to be in possession of their own inquisitive secret. Luscious brown tendrils tumbled down, and framed her lovely face. She had the look of a girl he once knew.

"So this is the life we are to destroy…" he reflected dismally. "…she looks like such a bright girl…very fair indeed."

"That's only a few months old, so it'll be a good likeness. Bertrand says the Vicomte had it done a few months ago, when they were first engaged." Richmond said as he downed another glass of brandy.

"Isn't her fiancée dead?" Lucien asked.

"Her _current_ fiancée is dead; she left the Vicomte for him, sounds like a bit of a whore to me…were you not listening to a word Bertrand said!"

"But she looks so – so pure, she cannot be more than twenty…" Lucien said in disbelief.

"Ah, appearances can be deceptive brother! You, above all, should know that. Have you forgotten about Elaine?"

"Do not mention her name again Richmond. You know not what you speak of." Lucien tightened his hand around the small portrait.

"Bertrand tells me you fell hard for her…that you were never the same after…"

"I told you to leave it brother…" A loud silence engulfed the room. Lucien levelled his breathing in an attempt to calm his anger. Richmond did not know what had happened that night. He could never know.

"I'm not sure I can go through with this…" Lucien said when his nerves had calmed "killing drunken scum is one thing, but taking young girls…ruining young lives!" he shook his head slowly "we have never had to sink this low before!"

"We have never been this desperate before…" Richmond seethed. He stood up and walked over to his elder brother, a drunken haze consuming his eyes. He grabbed Lucien by the collar with solid fists. "…we are desperate Lucien, we have had to struggle our entire lives because of you! So do not become a sentimental old fool because of a girl we do not know! Once this job is over we will have enough money to go wherever we want! And we will no longer be indebted to your old friend Edward Bertrand!" He shoved his brother back with a force that made the chair rock. The portrait fell to the floor. "It is your fault we have had to live our lives this way…you must pay your dues brother."

He turned and strode away; Lucien sat back, breathing in harsh gasps.

"_I have paid my dues Richmond_…" he whispered to himself _"if only you knew_!"

XXXXX

Raoul strode the hallways of his country manor. He was beginning to feel completely worn by the events of recent months. He could feel his brain pulsating at the strain he had allowed his body to endure. Why had he brought them here? Why did he care for the destiny of these people? And the most curious question of them all, why was he concealing the identity of the Phantom? So many riddles continued to harpoon at his head. And each one was assigned the same answer…Christine. This was all for her. His feelings for her were becoming akin to this situation. He was beginning to tire of them; his unrequited love was truly exhausting.

He walked into the downstairs study; he needed to piece together a plan to find Bertrand. Once he was found this could all be over, and life could resume its harmonious drift. He would be far away from here, and far away from the past.

"Far away from him…" he said, thinking aloud.

"I can't imagine who it is you speak of with such _contempt._" A voice called from behind him. Raoul felt himself curse a thousand times, _why him!_ His head screamed.

"Try harder monsieur, it shouldn't take more than a few guesses…" he said, turning to face Erik. The masked man smirked.

"No, I don't suppose it would."

"What do you want?" Raoul sighed.

"Believe it or not, I want the same things as you; I want all of this to be over. So that Christine will be safe…and so I will not have to tolerate the sight of you for a second longer." Raoul scowled at him.

"It is nice to know we share the same feelings on that matter, although I must confess, I am shocked that _you_ have the ability to feel!" Scorching hate hovered between the two men. "I suggest we avoid each other where possible." Raoul sniggered

"…that is a most sensible suggestion!" Erik hissed. They did not notice Nadir enter the room.

"Just the two men I've been looking for!" he said with a merry laugh. "The three of us need to sit down and discuss what we are going to do…"  
"Not now Daroga." Erik snapped. For the first time Raoul had to agree with his nemesis, plotting was now the last thing he wanted to do. He could not bear to be in the same room as that hideous monster.

"I'm afraid this can wait no longer! I am tired of bending to the whim of Edward Bertrand. I have my own personal reasons for wanting to see him suffer. Its time we took control of the situation…for it is us, not he, that continues to flee." Nadir sat down at the table triumphantly. Erik sighed, knowing that his friend was right. He strode to the head of the table and pulled out a chair violently. He sat with his arms folded across his chest. Raoul followed, taking a seat opposite Erik. They continued to stare at each other with distain, Nadir rolled his eyes.

"So, have you had any thoughts gentlemen?" Nadir began "…I must confess; each plan of action I decide upon has hidden drawbacks!" silence floated between the three of them, the clock ticked mockingly. "…Vicomte, do you think it would be worth writing to your brother? He may know something of Bertrand's current location."

"And he would know ours." Erik began "He also has a tight business relationship with Bertrand…its too risky Daroga."

"My brother is loyal to me!" Raoul said irritably

"He will be loyal to himself!" Erik chided "Your sort is all the same."

"And you have a higher level of loyalty I suppose? Stronger than blood?"

"Indeed, I bestow my loyalties sparingly. One can never be too careful; there are many rats around!"

"So, writing to the Comte may not be the most appropriate idea…" Nadir said, trying desperately to break the looming tension.

"He is away on business anyway." Raoul said "Bertrand and I have many mutual friends…some living not too far. I could ride out and see what they know…" Nadi was nodding along with the Vicomte, intrigued by the boys plan.

"How about you monsieur Khan…" Raoul said "you knew Bertrand's brother, can you recall anyone from their past? Anyone Bertrand might go to for help?" Nadir let his mind drift back to the years he had spent in the company of Bertrand's brother. There was a man, a man whose name remained far from his memory's grasp... But he was surely dead by now.

"Bertrand has always had very few allies, if I remember correctly, even his father and brother held nothing but mild contempt for him. I very much doubt that any allegiances have survived these long years."

"What chance does a person have if their own family despises them? Its no wonder he has a poisoned soul…" Raoul said thoughtfully

"Bertrand is a viper;" Erik said gravely "whatever he has planned next will be secretive and sly. He will not want to get his own hands dirty. Question these friends of yours about his past allies. With a job as delicate as this, he will need those he can trust. Abduction cannot be clumsy…"

"And you would know all about the intricacies of abduction!" Raoul said with a satisfied grin.

"One more comment like that, and I shall treat you to a lesson in the _intricacies _of strangulation!" Erik said grimly. Raoul's hand instinctively found his throat. Nadir sat silently, shaking his head.

"I will not be threatened in my own house! Not by the likes of you!"

"You chose to come with us, boy. We do not require your assistance."

"Don't be a fool; you know you need my help… I did this for your friends, not you. Your presence here was always going to be a hindrance. But, I suppose it is one I will have to bear…" silence smothered the room once again. Nadir sat still, awaiting the next retaliation from Erik. The masked man sat silently for a few moments, and then he raised his chin with a smirk.

"Allow me to be a hindrance no longer!" Erik said as he stood up gracefully, he turned and strode from the room. Raoul and Nadir sat in perplexed shock. It was several moments before either of them spoke.

"…do you think he? – Surely he wouldn't really go? He wouldn't leave Christine…" Raoul said timidly.

"I am certain of nothing when it concerns Erik…" Nadir said quietly "But I pray to Allah that this is just another of his capricious tantrums. The two of you need to learn to put your vicious differences aside. I hope he has not left, because we need him, my boy…we need him more than you realise!"

XXXXX

Erik entered Christine's room, the candles shone brightly, and the aroma of soap and roses floated into his nostrils. He needed to be in her presence, to calm his intense anger. She sat at the vanity braiding her long hair. She was humming something to herself, something that seemed familiar to his ears. A tune he had not heard for a long time, a tune he had made his heart forget. He closed his eyes and let the sound hypnotise his mind, he felt soothed by the beautiful resonance of her voice. His anger began to drift away slowly, like the waves of a calm sea.

"Are you ok Erik?" He opened his eyes to see her standing right in front of him, curious eyes searching his face.

"Yes, I am now…" he said as he stroked her cheek.

"Where have you been? It's getting late, it has hours since I saw you last…"

"With the Daroga and the fop, they are trying to find a resolution to this nightmare…"

"And?" she said hopefully, he could see the sweet expectation in her eyes. She was looking to him to solve everything. She expected him to make her world safe again, just as he had promised to do. His anger returned, but this time he felt it only for himself. His childish squabbles with the Vicomte had delayed any solution being compromised.

"Nothing tonight Mon Ange, I'm sorry…" he said with a heavy sigh. She smiled up at him.

"It's alright, I'm just grateful that we are all here now, and that you're here. I know I'll always be safe when I'm with you…nobody can get past you Erik…" she said as she smoothed the fabric of his jacket. Erik gave a short laugh.

"…you did Christine."

"Will you stay with me tonight? Just to hold me?" he looked down at her and felt himself crumble. He gave her a dashing smile.

"Of course I will my lady...I am, and will always be, your humble servant!" he picked her up and carried her to the bed, blowing out each candle one by one.

XXXXX

George was sweeping the floor of the Inn, it was late and nearly all of the guests had retired to bed. He felt he could sweep these floors in the dark, he knew the crevice and texture of each floor board. Each creaking sound seemed like a familiar harmony. He was not happy about the presence of Edward Bertrand and his mysterious henchmen. He had known Edward for many years, his ability to remain silent about discreet business transactions had made him a personal favourite of the young noble. He would always wear a bright smile and turn a blind eye. And because of this, business remained plentiful.

Something glistened up from within the layers of dust and mud. Some kind of gold trinket glittered in the dim light. George bent down and picked it up with clumsy fingers. He blew away the dust and studied the small artefact that lay in his fat hand.

"Well I'll be blown!" he said to himself, as he scratched his head with his free hand. "Young Catherine Lignier! What a handsome girl she is…" he walked into the main sitting room and placed the small golden frame on the mantelpiece "A face like that was made to be looked at!" the small frame sat amongst portraits of relatives and gifts bestowed to the Inn by travellers. Her sparking eyes looked out onto the room. "You look most at home there!" George said with a chuckle, he then left the room to resume his chores.

XXXXX

More soon!


	21. Se Méprendre: Part One

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, except any new characters.

Chapter 21: Se Méprendre. Part One.

Nadir sat on a stone bench at the edge of the impressive de Chagny garden. The roses were not yet in bloom, but the majestic aura was already captivating. This house would one day play host to magnificent parties for the bourgeois elite. How strange, he pondered, that its first real guests were the outcasts of society. Nadir smiled at the irony.

The cold smell of evening filled his senses. The air smelt so different in France, it was almost too pure. He missed the spice laced air of Persia, the soft sounds of twitching crickets in the undergrowth. He missed the heat of the air on his face, like the hot hand of a lover. _Ah, there is no place like home!_ He sighed as he took a long puff on his tobacco pipe. He watched the smoke drift upwards to the heavens. He did not know if his eyes would gaze upon the horizon of his homeland ever again. He felt a distant sadness, one he did not expect.

A melodious tune danced on the air. The clear notes were as distilled as the evening. The music seemed to embody every emotion that currently drowned his soul. Sorrow, regret, nostalgia and revenge all whirled around in the crevices of his psyche. But one seemed to overwhelm them all…longing. Nadir found himself to be longing for _something_. But for what, he did not yet know. The song was the purification of all emotion. He was eager to hear more of it, to discover more…to find out what he longed for so ardently…he began to follow the notes, perusing the sweet truths…craving the discovery…seeking the answers…

Then it stopped. He was released from its smothering hold. Nadir opened his eyes to see Erik sitting beside him. He was staring up at the star laden sky, a violin and bow rested in his lap.

"Evening, Daroga." Erik sighed.

"I'd forgotten how captivating your music can be Erik…" Nadir frowned.

"What a stupid thing to do!"

"Yes, Indeed…"

"I wanted to apologise for my behaviour last night." Erik said with reluctant lips "It seems my constant bickering with…that _boy_, is getting us nowhere. It will not happen again…unless I am _aggressively_ provoked." Nadir sat staring at him, mouth slightly agape. "Don't gape at me Daroga"

"I'm sorry…it's just…I've never heard you admit to being wrong before."

"I was not in the wrong. And I do not take any words back. But my behaviour was… inappropriate."

"So, are you going to attempt to get on with Raoul?"

"I will attempt to _not_ remove his head from his shoulders…" Erik said with a grin. "That is all I can promise Daroga." Nadir shook his head.

"Thank you. I'm sure this will mean a lot to Christine also." Erik did not answer. "…I am thinking of returning to Paris for a few days…there are some matters that need my attention, things that cannot wait." Nadir said. Erik nodded slowly.

"I would normally offer to accompany you Daroga, but…"

"Christine and the others need someone to stay here" Nadir finished.

"…Yes, and there is always a risk I could be seen, and…"

"You're supposed to be dead." Nadir finished with a smirk.

"Yes." Erik said, eyeing the Persian suspiciously. "…I am going to send Marcus and Nicole away. His father lives in Belleau, a small town not too far from here. There are already too many people involved. Perhaps you could ride out with them, at least until Marcus is familiar with his direction."

"Of course, I will leave with them first light. If all goes well I can be in Paris in two days…there is a very charming Inn which we stayed at on the way. I shall stay there tomorrow evening"  
"You have not mentioned this Inn before...I was under the impression you came directly here" Erik said sharply.

"We stopped for a mere few hours…just for some rest." Nadir said. He could see Erik processing every ounce of information. He knew what Erik really wanted to ask…Were Christine and Raoul alone at any point. He knew the suspicious clockwork mechanisms that ticked in his friends mind. And the irrational conclusions he would come to.

"Very Well, I'll find you before you leave tomorrow." Erik said, before Nadir could speak. Before he could reason with the masked mans tortured mind. "Now, if you will excuse me Daroga, I have things to attend to." He stood up and strode away from the bench.

Nadir sat alone again, laughing at Erik's incontrollable jealousy.

XXXXX

Erik sat down at the piano bench. He had adopted this instrument in the days they had been residing in Raoul's mansion. The music room was in a far corner if the house, filled with instruments yet to be played by human hands. These instruments craved attention, they needed to be caressed by musical fingers. This room was like a domain of escape for him, a place of complete solace.

The music returned instantly. Like the innate rhythms were forever sewn into his fingers. Occasionally, his thin fingers would falter on the keys. The beautiful melody interrupted by the images that pelted his tempestuous mind.

He could see it, like the scene from an opera unfolding before his eyes. Raoul comforting a scared and confused Christine. Alone, in an Inn, after all other residents had retired to bed. A warm fire crackling in the distance, talk of fond memories, a happier time reminisced, and kisses in the soft light. He could feel his blood running hot with a thick rage. _Why did she not tell me…if it is such an insignificant detail, why lie! She promised me – no more lies! _

A soft hand on his shoulder made him jump. Christine was standing behind him  
"Why did you stop playing? That was beautiful…" she said "I've missed your music..."

"It was not meant to be heard by prying ears." He frowned.

"It was only me…nobody else knows that you are in here."

"Good." Christine bit her lip nervously; it had been a long time since she had seen Erik in this mood.

"Is everything alright?" she said, stroking his shoulder. It was like touching stone.

"Absolutely fine."

"Are you sure? You can tell me …that's why we have each other."

"To share our hopes and fears!" he said mockingly.

"Yes…"  
"And do you have anything you wish to _share_ with me, Christine?"

"No" she said innocently.

"Then it appears everything is fine…" he stood up abruptly, a movement that forced her hand off his shoulder. She looked at him with hurt, confused eyes. Erik suddenly felt a tremendous guilt.

"Oh, excuse me…I didn't mean to interrupt." Raoul said from the doorway. Erik could hear the accusation in his tone.

"Monsieur Khan, Marcus and Nicole are about to leave, I thought you would want to bid them farewell." Erik nodded and began to stride down the corridor: he did not look back at Christine. Raoul stared at her for a moment, with a kind of absent pity, and then turned to follow Erik.

Christine was left standing in the music room, like another discarded instrument. She felt…hurt, confused and angry. Why was the man she loved so fiercely still a stranger in so many ways? It was like they had returned to the days at the opera. Their relationship a series of strategic games: ones she always lost. She loved a stranger she could not get close to. One she was scared of, and at the same time, felt safe with. It seemed whenever she felt strong enough to abandon herself to his love, he would only serve to push her away. Close the small door he had opened to her. She wrapped her arms around herself, relishing in the feeling of self comfort. She sank down onto the piano bench, suddenly feeling very, very alone.

XXXXX

Everyone was gathered in the foyer to bid farewell to Nadir, Marcus and Nicole. Erik's two young servants had been shocked by their sudden dismissal, and Marcus felt oddly sad at no longer playing a part in this adventure. But he knew, for once, that Erik was acting in their best interests.

"Stay with your father until I send for you, I do not pretend to know when that will be. But do not return to the house on the hill under any circumstances. It may not be safe. Do you understand?" They both nodded in agreement. "Good." Erik said with a smile before walking away to speak to Nadir.

Nicole looked at her master, and for the first time saw the genuine sparkle that Christine must love so much. He was an impossible man at the best of times, and a formidable one at the worst. She did not dare imagine the horrors that lat beneath his shining mask, or the terror that was embedded in those sharp eyes. But she found she could no longer think of him as a completely amoral monster. There was goodness in there, it just remained cloaked.

A sheepishly pale Christine made her way down the staircase. She could see Erik and Nadir talking intensely. Raoul and Meg were laughing merrily together and Madame Giry was talking with the small band of staff Raoul had employed. Christine went to Nicole and embraced her warmly.

"I'll miss you Mon ami…" she said, a slight crack in her voice "But at least this way, you'll be safe. You should have never been involved in any of this."

Nicole smiled. "Take care, Christine, I will pray for you every night. This will all be a memory before you know it" She stroked Christine's porcelain cheek "then we will all return home together! Promise me you will still be the same when you are the mistress of the house!" Nicole said with a chuckle, but Christine could only manage a wry half smile. Nicole was about to ask what was wrong but Nadir called that it was time to leave. Christine hugged her again and then watched them follow Nadir outside.

She felt a hollow sadness; three of her dearest friends were leaving all at once. People she had come to think of as family. And she could not go to Erik for comfort. She did not want to. Not after his frosty behaviour earlier. Madame Giry and Meg made their way to the kitchen to help prepare breakfast. Erik seemed to be studying something Nadir had given to him, he seemed oblivious to the rest of the world, and all she could see was the masked side of his face. Raoul seemed to be lost in distant thoughts. Christine turned and ran up the stairs; she did not want any of them to see she had been crying.

XXXXX

George eyed the two gentlemen nervously, it was approaching midnight and he was eager to retire to bed. But there was something in their conspicuous manner, something that made him feel uneasy. He would sleep better when they were gone from this place. He stood polishing the steel tankards. In truth, there was no need to clean them. They already resembled the purity of a looking glass, but he needed to look busy.

"You got any more brandy George?" Richmond called out from one of the armchairs.

"No, my dear boy, you and your brother appear to have cleared me out! I will have to retrieve some more tomorrow."

There was a long silence.

"Did monsieur Bertrand mention how long he would be in Paris?" George said, trying to break the tension.

"A few days, not sure what was so urgent...he's taken the she devil with him. We've been told to stay put until he comes back…so you'd better stock up on the brandy!"

George laughed, because it was polite, but inside he felt nothing but dread. He had not seen much of Nicolette; she seemed to spend all of her time in her room. _She must hate their company as much as I do…_George thought with a private smile.

The sound of horse hooves could be heard on the outside gravel. Richmond rose and pulled the heavy curtain aside.

"There's a gentleman outside George!" he called over his shoulder; George lowered the tankard and made his way to the front door. Richmond looked at Lucien, who had fallen asleep in his chair. He kicked him in the ankle, Lucien jerked awake.

"Wake up you daft lump! We've got company!" Richmond said with a devilish grin.

Lucien rose and made his way to the window…

XXXXX

"Monsieur Azir!" George called from the doorway of the Inn. "How wonderful it is to see you again!" Nadir jumped down from his horse, and handed the reins to the stable hand. It took a few moments for his brain to register with his fake identity.

"It is good to see you again George!" Nadir said as he shook hands with the chubby Innkeeper.

"Are your companions not joining you?"

"No, they are staying at a country residence not too far from here; I have to return to Paris for a few days…please tell me that you have a room where an old fool like me can rest!"

"Of course, anything for you, I must confess I am glad you have arrived, some of the current guests are rather curious…"

_What a comforting thought! _Nadir mused sarcastically.

"I am acquainted with many a strange folk George; perhaps I can find some common ground with these guests of yours!" George laughed merrily, patting Nadir on the back.

"Ha! Come inside my friend, come inside!"

XXXXX

Nadir entered the sitting room, expecting to find Erik's distant relatives waiting for him. But the room appeared to be empty. Only an empty bottle of brandy and two glasses remained. He cast an eye about the room. He was quite alone.

"May I introduce monsieur Azir!" George said as he entered the sitting room behind Nadir. "…Ah, they must have retired for the evening…" he said as he scratched his balding head. "Must have been the lack of brandy…now lets get you settled in, same room as before?" Nadir nodded, he was pleased that the strange occupants were nowhere to be seen. All he wanted was a peaceful night's sleep, he had seen enough drama in recent weeks to last him a lifetime.

He climbed the wooden stairs to his room and put the key in the door. It opened slowly, with a long wailing creek. Nadir felt a sharp blade in the back of his neck.

"Get in there now… and don't make a sound, or the old man downstairs will be gutted before your eyes…" the stench of stale brandy lingered on the air. Nadir felt his heart plummet. He remembered this voice.

XXXXX_meanwhile…_

Christine sat on the green chaise, legs pulled under her slim frame. She had thought, maybe, that Erik would come to find her. He would apologise for his glacial treatment of her, and promise to make it all alright again. It was now approaching dusk, and he had not come. She had not left her room all day, it may have been a lingering display of immaturity, but she was determined not to seek him out. If he wanted to see her, he could come and find her.

She watched as another five minutes ticked by, she had been doing this all day, making silent bets with herself that Erik would come to her. Always in another five minutes. She always had the same faith in the unlikely gamble. Still nobody came. Christine had to smile at how ridiculous she was being.

There was a knock at the door.

Christine stood up immediately, wide eyed and nervous. He had come, he wasn't ignoring her, he had come to apologise. To make her feel better with his hypnotic kisses and warm arms, she felt her heart begin to dance.

"Come in!" she called, in the most cheerful tone she could muster. She began to violently smooth the creases in her skirt.

"Good evening Christine, I came to check that you were alright, nobody has seen you since this morning…"

"Oh, hello Raoul" she said trying to disguise the disappointment in her tone "I have been resting, please come in." Raoul entered the room and sat in a chair opposite her. Awkward silence rang loudly in her ears, her mind raced for something to say, anything to say, anything to smash this smothering quiet…

"This is a lovely shade of green…" she said as she smoothed the surface of the chaise with her hand. Raoul looked at her, perplexed, and she felt like an idiot.

"Err, yes…indeed, it is a most charming colour" Raoul said uncertainly. Christine nodded feeling cold embarrassment seep into her veins.

"…there is another reason I came to see you." He said; her eyes were now locked with his. "Things have been…_awkward_ between us since I said…and you told me that you no longer felt…"

"Yes, I know what you mean Raoul." She interrupted, saving him from his growing mortification. He nodded.

"…well I don't want there to be any more awkward moments…like…"

"Like this!" she said with a smile "…neither do I…"

"Then let us never mention it again, let's get through this mess and all live happily ever after!"

"I'm not sure they exist…" She said wryly "but I agree that we should never mention it again."

"Oh, how you have changed! The Christine Daae I knew always believed in a happily ever after…" he said with a soft chuckle "I wonder, what happened to that girl?"

"She grew up…" Christine said returning his grin. They smiled at each other then, as the children they once were. Then Raoul stood.

"I should go…I promised Meg I would try and teach her to play chess!"

"She won't let you forget that!" Christine smiled. "…you should go."

"Will you not come down?"

"Maybe later, I might just read in here for a while…"

"Alright, but don't suffer in silence, we all need company Christine."

"I won't, I promise"

He took her hand and placed the briefest of kisses to her pale knuckle. He held onto her for a few moments more than were necessary. But she could see it in his eyes that he was letting go, of her, and of the past. Her eyes fluttered to the open door, and she saw a dark shadow disperse. She realised then that Erik had been there, and that he had seen everything.

XXXXX

He opened his bruised eyes, this small, simple action sent waves of pain through his body. They had not asked him any questions. Even if they had, he would not have given them any answers. He already had all of the information he needed. He knew it from the moment he had heard that voice. Lucien Piccard. Bertrand's henchman, this was clearly the man charged with finding Christine. Ruining Christine.

_I should have known…damn it! Why didn't I guess! Bertrand would not trust anyone else with such a dastardly crime!_

"You Persian scum…" Lucien had said as the other one continued to kick him. "…why couldn't you stay away? Let the past be buried! That's not your way though, is it? Nadir Khan can never leave things alone…things that are not your business! "

The room was pitch black, and each savage kick and punch came out of the mysterious gloom, each one damaging his unprepared and fragile limbs. His body had endured some pain in his time, but now Nadir's aging bones were finding it difficult to fight out against the writhing agony.

He lay on the cold wooden floor, hands and legs bound together behind his back. They had not killed him, yet. Not without orders from Bertrand. Nadir knew Lucien would enjoy pulling the trigger. Ending another life, the last life he needed to end before the truth was gone forever.

Nadir was the only other person that knew he had killed Bertrand's father and brother. Lucien, who had at one time been Bertrand's shy valet, had killed them in cold blood. With Bertrand's help, he had escaped without a conviction, justice had never been done. Nadir had spent years searching and wondering. There had never been enough evidence to convict Bertrand. And the whole sorry mess was eventually forgotten.

_Where are you when I need yo__ur help Erik! _

There was no one to help him now. All he could do was lie on the discommodious floor, and pray to Allah for a miracle.

XXXXX

Erik tore down the stairs, a black fist of rage locked around his heart, blocking out the light. He had to go; he _needed_ to go, before he killed them both in a demented rage. He could hear her small feet padding behind him; he could hear her calling to him, calling out his name…_the call of a siren_. He would not let the beautiful resonance hypnotise him, he would not let it claim his soul from the black mist. He belonged in this smoke, as it belonged to him, they were one.

But still he could hear the voice, louder now, she must be running. Louder, clearer, stronger…a hand on his arm…

"Erik! – please…"

He stopped.

"Erik?"

He turned. And she could almost see an orange glow his eyes.

"It would be wise…to let go now…" his voice was feral and low. So low Christine almost didn't recognise it, but she found she could not pull her hand from his arm.

"No…" she whispered with a tear soaked voice, "Please, Erik, what you think you saw…" he yanked his arm from her small hand, violently. He began to stride away, black cloak fanning out behind him. The front door coming closer with each step, he needed to get away from her…he needed to escape, he needed to escape the lies…she was lying…wasn't she? He reached out to open the door, to get away from the reality…away from his heart.

Christine flew in front of the large front door, chest rising and falling heavily, ragged breaths escaping her lungs. Erik stopped dead. Inches away from her, she could feel his breath on her face…

"Please don't go…nothing happened, I promise you, I promise…" crystalline tears flooded her cheeks.

"You have promised me things before…promises you have not kept." He hissed.

"What? What do you mean?" she reached out to touch his face, trying to soothe his temper, trying to extinguish the fire. "Raoul was…only checking that I was alright – I wanted you to come…but you seemed so angry with me this morning…."

"So, you went running to the Vicomte…how original"

"Don't do this Erik, please, don't ruin all that we have...there is nothing between Raoul and I, you must believe me" she looked at him, with unbridled devotion, her heart stinging with love. Erik wanted to believe her; part of him _did _believe her. He swallowed hard. He knew it was being in this place, this house, Raoul's house that had tainted his sanity. He felt like he was in a cage, one he desperately needed to escape. He touched her chin with his gloved hand.

"_Forgive me…_" he whispered. He moved his hands to her waist, lifting her so her feet hovered above the marble floor; he set her down away from the door. "I will return…" he said, before thrusting the door open and marching out into the night.

XXXXX

Nicolette lay in on her bed, knees pulled up to her chin, shackled by fear. She had heard everything, the beating, the accusations and the cries of pain. It had been silent for a long time now. Had they left him in there to die? And why did she recognise that name_? Nadir Khan…_it was not the name of a former client, nor that of an old acquaintance. But for some reason it was implanted inside her memory…_Nadir Khan…_

Cold realisation began to sweep across her mind; he was the man who had helped Christineescape fromFairmont House. She gulped, he would know the whereabouts of her, and Agatha would recognise him, and tell Bertrand…then it would all be over for Christine…

She gave a helpless cry…she wanted to help…but surely there was nothing she could do…

XXXXX

If anyone is still reading this story…I'm so sorry for another delayed update!

Part Two of this chapter will be with you very soon!


	22. Se Méprendre: Part Two

Chapter 22: Se Méprendre. Part Two.

He could see the shadow beneath the door. Hesitant, lingering footsteps, unsure of whether to stay or go, unsure of the floor they stood on. There was a soft sound, a key in the lock, turning, a mechanism clicking. Was this to be the final beating, his final moments of life? He was unsure…but nothing could be worse than this uncertainty, surely the anticipation of death was always worse than the act itself.

The act could be a blessing, justice would never be done, but at least they would not be able to torture him. They could not beat the truth out of him with malicious kicks. This way his lips would never unwillingly give the truth away, they would never reveal the truth about Christine and Erik. He would not give into the constant pain, and the relief of it stopping when they were satisfied with his answers…

Bare feet made their way towards him, tiptoes. He opened his eyes as far as they could go. The tearing of wounded flesh brought tears to his eyes. He looked up into the eyes of his intruder, warm and uncertain orbs stared back. Blonde locks fell around her face. Nadir was sure, now more than before, that he must be dead. A heavenly being had been sent to deliver him to paradise. He would soon see his wife Rookheya and their son…he would soon be in the luxurious company of his ancestors…the sun on his face…

"Monsieur…" a pure sound called. He could feel her hand nervously caressing his face. He flinched as her fingertips brushed against the fresh wounds. She pulled her hand away.

"Forgive me…please monsieur; I only have a few moments - can you hear me…?" Nadir gave a twitch of his black eyebrows. And she knew he understood.

"My name is Nicolette…I am – a resident at Fairmont house…I remember you from the night…anyway, it was my fault miss Daae ended up in there…I was only trying to help, I did not think – well, I am very sorry for all that has happened since"

"_Hmmm_…" Nadir grunted, trying desperately to find his voice. This girl needed to slow down. His mind was as ravaged as his body.

"I know you will probably not trust me, but believe me monsieur, I have nothing to loose. I want to make amends for what I have done, and I want to be free." He considered her words for a few moments. He should not trust her. She could be lying, just another way for them to get information from him. But she seemed so…frightened, so lost. Much like the way Christine had been when they had found her at Fairmont house. And his good heart wanted to believe her. But he knew what Erik would do, and probably the Vicomte too. They would not trust her at all. But this was his only chance, she had said she had nothing to loose, and in this moment, neither did he.

"Please monsieur; tell me anything, anything you can think of...I promise I only want to help, but time is against us…"

"_D…de – Chagny_…" he muttered, annoyed at his lack of speech. He needed to get through the pain. She held a small tankard of water to his mouth, his ravenous lips lapped at the liquid desperately. "_The new de Chagny residence…" _the words came easier, but his voice remained fatigued and faint "_Head north…follow the signs for Sezanne…you cannot miss it…tell…tell them I am here, they will help you. Find le Vicomte, he…he will be easier to handle…Tell of Bertrand…tell them to come for me…" _

"I will…and in return? Will you help me?"

"_You will be free mademoiselle, I promise you. I will see to it that you never have to see Agatha Farnsworth again…" _There was such warmth, and promise in his tone, such sincerity. Only a fool would not be moved enough to help him. And maybe, just maybe she could be free as well. Free to live the life she had been denied for so long.

"I will leave now – they return from Paris any day…" She looked again at the injuries that plagued his body "…I will return as soon as I can monsieur…please hang on."

XXXXX

The door slammed in Christine's face. She could feel the tears dry, no more fell. Her desperate sadness was replaced by a new aggressive force. _Who does he think he is!_ Her mind yelled. _I will not let him do this to me again…_

With all the force her small body could muster, she yanked the large door open. Anger, pure anger raged in her heart. She could see the black clad figure storming out into the consuming darkness, but she would not let him do this again. They could forget about Bertrand, Erik's temper and his insufferable pride was becoming their biggest enemy. More destructive than anything Bertrand or Madame Farnsworth could do to them. She had always assumed Erik to be the strong one, the one that would always make everything alright. But she had forgotten the lost soul that had stared up to her that night, the night she had returned the ring and left with Raoul. Inside, she realised, Erik was as fragile as she was.

She was running faster than she ever had before. She could only just make out the dark figure that stormed away from her. Years of ballet training had made her feet nimble and light, she was like a floating spectre, fast and soundless on the stone path.

She caught up to him, and with all her strength she reached out and thumped his solid back. He stopped, but she didn't, she continued to hammer at his back with her small fists. He turned around slowly, but Christine felt no fear.

"Never walk away from me again!" she screamed. Erik was facing her with his mouth slightly agape; he was so shocked by her outburst that he forgot all about his own anger.

"Christine – calm-"

"NO! I will not let you do this again…you can't walk away from me and then turn up later and apologise! Not anymore, you will listen to me; you will talk to me...no more of this! You _need _to trust me Erik…" Erik did not recognise this girl, and then it hit him. She was no longer the girl from the opera house, content to be ordered around and blinded. She was a woman now, and a strong one at that. Her recent ordeals had made her brave. Erik felt like a child, a moody child that was being berated for his capricious tantrums. That was not the man he intended to be.

"Are you finished?" he said, his tone even.

She stood tall, chin raised and arms folded.

"Yes, are you ready to listen? Or do I need to hit you again?" Erik smiled at her then, not the sarcastic smile she had seen so many times before. A wide, genuine smile and she found herself smiling back.

"No, mademoiselle, I think my back is bruised enough already…are you going to apologise?"

"No, not until you listen."

"I am all ears my dear…"

"You promise to listen? No more storming away?"

"Yes"

"You must really listen, and stop acting like a stubborn old man!"

"I will…your wish is my command" he said with a bow. She arched her eyebrow slightly, and he smiled again. This was an Erik she had never seen before.

She put her arms around him; he let his head rest upon hers. Realising again how his irrational jealousy had almost cost him everything.

"Nothing happened, or would ever happen. You must know that mon amour…" she whispered slowly.

"I know…" He began hoarsely "But when I found out about the Inn, I thought…it was stupid, but I cannot control that anger Christine, I was blinded by it. And then I saw you with him...it consumed me, and I let the darkness take me once more." Christine raised her head and looked him directly in the eye.

"You have a light inside you too – I just wish you would trust it enough to let it shine. I do not believe you are completely dark Erik, you have a beautiful soul…the world should see it…you are a man Erik, and you deserve to be loved just like any other."

Erik rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. She had the ability to soothe him, make him feel human. And he was human, he was only a man. A man that lived: and a man that loved.

"Please forgive me…sometimes I think I love you too much…"

She smiled and let her head drift into his hand.

"Did you _really_ call me a stubborn oldman?"

"I may have…but I think you deserved it" she laughed, "Come, let's return indoors." They began to walk back to the house, hand in hand, when suddenly Erik stopped. He could hear a voice calling softly. He turned and squinted into the dark, a small figure stood at the gates, calling something out.

"Go inside, mon ange…tell the Vicomte we have company…" Christine's grip had tightened on his hand, making his fingers feel numb. She was staring in the direction of the gate with wide, fearful eyes.

"Go on, Christine, I'll see who it is…" he kissed her forehead "Do not worry, I will not let anything happen to you…now go." She reluctantly let go of him and made her way towards the house. Erik watched until she was safely inside, then pulled his hood up and made his way to the gate…

XXXXX

Christine hurried up the stairs to the library, her mind racing and reacting faster than her feet. It was Agatha Farnsworth, she just knew it. And wherever she was, Bertrand was sure never to be far behind. She tripped on the stair, a light graze decorated her knee, blood shined on the surface. But Christine did not feel or notice the pain; she picked herself up and continued to charge up the stairs.

She burst into the library; the social laughter and chat stopped as the occupants all turned to stare at her abrupt entry. Raoul rose from the table where he and Meg were playing chess.

"Christine – "

"There's- someone outside…" she panted.

"What?"

"At the gate – there's someone at the gate…"

"Impossible – nobody knows of this house yet….and my family remain out of the country!"

"I thought we were safe here?" Madame Giry said as she came to stand by Christine and Raoul.

"Erik has gone to see who it is…please, Raoul, please go and help him…what if it's Bertrand!" Madame Giry put her arm around Christine. Raoul's brow creased, he picked up his rapier from the corner of the room and secured it to his belt.

"Wait in here…I'll find out what's going on…" he turned and gave a reassuring look to Meg, who continued to sit at the table with a terrified look on her face. He left the room without another glance back.

XXXXX

Nicolette stood at the large Iron Gate, her feet ached from running and the cold was pinching at her cheeks. She stared uneasily at the dark figure that came towards her. His strides were measured and commanding, he seemed to be neither hurrying nor dawdling. He would make his way to her in his own time. A hood covered the whole of his face, and he reminded Nicolette of a wraith, stalking her in some kind of forgotten nightmare.

This was not the Vicomte she had been expecting.

When he was within a few feet of the gate he stopped, he appeared to be studying her.

"Who are you." he asked. Nicolette was stunned by the deep sensuality of his voice.

"I am here to see the Vicomte de Chagny…I have a message for him."

"Tell me, and I will make sure he gets it…"

"I would much rather speak to him directly – this is of the greatest importance." Nicolette gulped – this was not going to be easy. "Please monsieur…"

"As I said, it will be my pleasure to pass on any message you may have for him."

"I have been sent here by a friend of his, someone who is in grave danger."

Erik was simmering; this was obviously some whore the Vicomte used to please his carnal desires. The young girl had gone and fallen in love with him, and had followed them all the way out here.

"I do not have time for this…" he hissed curtly "Now; either state your business, or leave. The choice is yours mademoiselle."

Nicolette was scared, she needed to get help for Nadir there was no way she could leave, but this man was like stone. Monsieur Khan had not mentioned that the Vicomte had a lion guarding his home.

"Very well, have it your way." He said, and then he turned his back on her and began to stride away. He wanted to find Christine, he wanted to hold her and tell her there was nothing to be afraid of…it had all been a false alarm. She was safe.

"Wait!"

He stopped.

"I was sent here by Monsieur Khan…he is in trouble, real trouble. He sent me here to get help…"

The hooded man turned around and began to march towards the gate. His gloved hands clasped around the bars.

"Who has him?" his tone was urgent.

"The – the Piccard brothers…they work for Edward Bertrand!"

"Bertrand?" A third voice called out from behind the cloaked figure. Nicolette studied his handsome visage and wealthy attire, _this _was clearly the Vicomte. He came and stood beside the dark figure.

"Bertrand has Nadir." The cloaked man said to the Vicomte.

"How?" The Vicomte asked in disbelief.

"That was my next question also…" said Erik darkly. Both of them were staring at Nicolette.

"Were you followed?" Erik demanded.

"No."

"Are you absolutely certain?"

"Yes, I promise!"

"Who knows you are here?"

"Only monsieur Khan – he is the one that told me how to find you…please, you must help me…he is in a bad way, we need to get back to him before they return from Paris!"

Erik nodded to Raoul, who began to unlock the gate.

"Come – we shall talk more inside."

XXXXX

George crouched in the undergrowth; he had followed the young blonde all the way from the Inn. He had heard the beating, but knew it was unwise to get involved. Bertrand had paid him well over the years, to turn a blind eye keep and his mouth closed. And despite feeling no warm regard for him, George was always loyal to his employer. Clearly this girl was not.

He did not know what she was doing here. He did not recognise the cloaked figure she now spoke to, but something had clearly had distressed her, something was amiss.

Then he saw a face he did recognise. The dashing face of Victor Lignier, how did the young girl know him? And why was she so concerned for the welfare of his Persian acquaintance?

He watched them make their way into the house. Bertrand's last words still rang loudly in his ears.

_Keep a close eye on the young prostitute …her manner makes me uneasy…_

He stood. And ran back in the direction of the Inn…

XXXXX

Nicolette followed the two men uncertainly. Their pace was hurried; she had to run to keep up with their long strides. _What am I doing? _She thought wryly, she could not believe she was helping that man, and now putting her own safety in the company of these strangers. It felt as though it was someone else doing this, she had left her real self at the Inn, this was all a dream. _What if they don't believe me? They could kill me, not that it matters…if Madame Farnsworth finds out I'm dead anyway! _

They entered a small study at the end of a dark corridor. The Vicomte lit some lamps, the hooded figure stood at the fireplace, his back turned on the room. Nicolette wondered who this mysterious man was. He certainly seemed a strange acquaintance for a Vicomte to have. _But then again so does a Persian! _She thought with a slight smile.

"Please, have a seat mademoiselle." said Raoul kindly, motioning to an armchair. She smiled gingerly and took a seat in the purple chair.

"Tell us of these Piccard brothers…" The cloaked man commanded.

"I do not know much…they are old acquaintances of monsieur Bertrand, the older one, Lucien, has known him for many years…from what I can gather they help him with delicate situations, they are his henchmen…"

"If that is the case, what on earth do they want with monsieur Khan?" Raoul asked. Erik remained silent.

"I do not know…but I heard them asking why he hadn't stayed away, there must be some kind of connection there also."

"What are they helping Bertrand with now?" Erik asked, although he already knew the answer.

"They are helping him in his quest to abduct Christine Daae; my mistress Agatha Farnsworth has also been helping him. That is how I came to be involved. But I want no part of it…it's my fault all of this is happening anyway…" Nicolette said, tears forming in her eyes.

"How so?" Raoul asked.

"Months ago I found her, beaten and alone…I took her to Fairmont House for safety, but Madame Farnsworth discovered her, there was nothing I could do. I have wanted to make amends for so long…" she noticed the cloaked man's breathing deepen.

"Is that your only reason for wanting to help?" Erik asked.

"I hate Edward Bertrand, and I have no loyalties to Agatha Farnsworth. I want to be free monsieur. Too much of my youth has been spent under the control of that dreadful woman." This seemed to satisfy the dark man; his body language seemed to change.

"We need to act quickly…where are they staying?"

"Le Inn Vipere…"

"We should leave now Vicomte…" Erik said "while they are unprepared." Raoul nodded and stood.

"What about me?" Nicolette said with worried eyes.

"You are more than welcome to stay here." Raoul said.

"But I want to come; I want to help Christine and monsieur Khan…"

"It is too risky for you to come as well." Erik frowned.

"Please let me, they trust me I can be of use to you…"

"I advise against it, but the decision is yours mademoiselle, if you choose to come I cannot guarantee your safety…my priority is Nadir, you will be responsible for yourself."

"I understand…but I am involved now, I want to help…"

Erik was silent.

"What will we tell the girls and Madame Giry?" Raoul asked Erik.

"I don't know…" Erik said gruffly "but I cannot lie to Christine, not now…"

"You won't have to." A soft voice called from the doorway. Christine said the words to Erik, but her gaze was fixed on Nicolette. One face she hoped never to see again.

The two girls shared a silent moment. Christine felt as though she should hate Nicolette, but she didn't. She felt sorry for her, Agatha had ruined her life. She had taken her youth, and destroyed her innocence.

"I don't think you should go." Christine said to her. "…you are finally away from her – don't risk her finding you. We both know you only get one chance to escape Agatha Farnsworth."

Nicolette could not find her voice. She had expected scorn, anger, even hate from Christine. Not understanding and concern.

"So, will you stay?" Christine asked. Nicolette nodded softly.

"Come, I will show you to a room. You should get some rest…" Raoul said. He led Nicolette from the room, she stopped at the doorway.

"Thank you…" She whispered to Christine, who gave a smile.

When the door closed Christine walked to Erik and pulled down his hood, tears forming in her eyes.

"I wish you didn't have to go…but I understand…I just pray it is not too late to save Nadir." Erik ran his hand through her hair. Feeling more love for her than ever before.

"It's not too late; we will have the old fool back here by sunrise, I promise you." she took his hand in hers and kissed his knuckle.

"I'm going to hold you to that." She said with a sad smile. Erik kissed her deeply, wanting this all to be over.

Ten minutes later the Vicomte and the Phantom began their journey to Le Inn Vipere.

XXXXX

There is still quite a bit more of this story to go, but we're building up to the finale now!


	23. Unlikely Comrades

Chapter 23: Unlikely Comrades.

Raoul charged forward on his steed. The animal winced and moaned with each whip and kick from his owner. Raoul squinted into the blinding dark, trying desperately to keep up with his black clad companion. Branches seemed to shoot out from nowhere, obscuring his already weak vision. He cursed Erik in his head over and over. _There was no need to ride through the woods,_ he raged inwardly_, he is doing this out of spite…the low life, underhand, despicable…_

Erik's horse stopped abruptly.

Raoul, stunned by Erik's sudden halt, nearly hit a tree in his attempt to stop. When at last his horse was still he swung his legs over and jumped to the ground.

"What on earth are you doing?" He yelled to the masked man.

"Securing my horse, I suggest you do the same." Erik said calmly. As if he was talking to a complete imbecile.

"You could have killed me!"

Erik remained silent, and even though it was dark, Raoul was sure he could sense a smile on the masked mans face. Raoul clenched his fists together; he kept his rage locked deep inside. _Keep calm, get through this, save monsieur Khan, and then you will never have to be alone with this depraved psychopath ever again!_ He took a few deep breaths.

"Why have we stopped?" he asked steadily.

"If your directions are correct, the Inn should be just over there. I think it best we approach on foot. We don't want to attract any undue attention."

"Surely your mask will do that all by itself!" Raoul huffed. It was Erik's turn to take a few calming breaths. Then he turned to face the Vicomte with a sly smile.

"That is why _you _will go in first; distract them while I find the Daroga."

"And what exactly would you have me do? Sing and dance? Put on some kind of play perhaps?"

"Whatever takes your fancy, Vicomte, just give me some time!" Erik said as he began to march through the undergrowth. Raoul walked two strides behind him.

"I can see you have given this plan a lot of thought!" Raoul said, pushing leaves and branches out of his path. Erik whirled around to face him, eyes glowing in the dark.

"There is not always time to plan, boy! One more word from you and I'll tie you up with the horses!" he turned around and continued to charge forward.

"Do not take such a tone with me!" Raoul countered, hurrying to keep up with Erik "I am only here to help Nadir; you are the last person I would ever want to be in the company of!"

Erik silenced the Vicomte with a wave of his hand.

"Hush! The Inn is over there."

It sat proudly at the edge of the road; a beacon of light calling out in the gloom. The two men crouched down behind a fallen tree.

"What will you do if you're seen? Bertrand thinks your dead, remember?"

"Of course I remember!" Erik hissed through gritted teeth. "But, if the young whore is to be believed, he and Madame Farnsworth are in Paris."

"Do not use such derogatory terms to describe mademoiselle Nicolette, she is the only reason we know of Nadir's situation." Raoul snapped. Erik raised an eyebrow.

"Do I sense an attraction? I'm sure your brother will be in raptures!" he mocked, Raoul shook his head.

"Do not be absurd!" he scoffed "So, we have a plan for getting in, any ideas on getting out?" he asked, desperate for a change of subject.

"One thing at a time…" Erik frowned. "You go in via the front…I'll meet you inside."

"How on earth will you get inside?"

"I have ways…I was a ghost, remember?" Erik said with a smirk before making his way to the Inn. Raoul rolled his eyes. Then stood and began to walk towards the front door.

XXXXX

A red faced George opened the door timidly. His run back to the Inn had taken its toll, and he felt as though he would collapse at any moment.

"Ah, Victor Lignier, what brings you here at this ungodly hour?"

Raoul raised his eyebrows, beads of sweat decorated the Innkeeper's forehead and his breathing seemed unsteady.

"I was passing, I have some business in Paris, I need somewhere to rest for a few hours…and naturally I thought of your charming Inn." Raoul said politely. He couldn't help but wonder if Erik had managed to get inside yet.

"Of course, please come in." George said as he motioned the young man inside. He could feel nerves creeping up the back of his neck. With everything that had happened tonight, this mans presence meant trouble.

"You must be tired, let me show you to a room." he began to walk towards the stairs; he had an empty room on the other side of the Inn. Far away from where they were holding the Persian.

"Wait…" Raoul said "let us talk in here a while, I could use some good conversation. It has been a rather troubling day!"

George nodded and motioned towards the sitting room. In truth, polite conversation was the last thing he wanted. But surely refusal would only rouse suspicion, and that was the last thing he needed.

Raoul followed him gingerly, not knowing what on earth he was going to say. He took a seat in one of the armchairs. George sat opposite. Raoul searched for something to say, but his mind had gone desperately blank. _Say something! _He screamed at himself _say anything, nothing can be worse than this silence! _

"So, how is business?" Raoul said as he crossed his legs, trying to adopt a casual demeanour.

"Very well, thank you" George answered. He did not want to talk about his current guests.

Raoul sighed inwardly; this was going to be hard work!

"What business is it you have in Paris, anything glamorous?" George asked, trying to change the subject.

"Well yes, I'm attending a meeting about the…um – the opera!" _why on earth did you say opera!_ He raged internally._ The worst possible subject to discuss whilst the Phantom haunts upstairs!_ _And this man does not know who you really are!_

"Opera you say, very glamorous indeed!" Raoul could see that he had sparked George's interest; this was a dangerous subject.

"A friend of mine was the Patron there, before – the accident."

"Yes, what a terrible affair…tell me, what exactly did happen there? We only get Chinese whispers all the way out here. The truth always gets distorted!"

"What is it that you have heard monsieur?" Raoul asked, almost too uncomfortably.

"Oh, some nonsense about a ghost who kidnapped a young soprano, strange deaths and a deadly love triangle…probably nothing as scandalous as that was it?" George said with a chuckle.

"No nothing as terrible as that!" Raoul said, mirroring George's merriment, but feeling like he could die inside. _Actually it was worse monsieur, and another act is unfolding as we speak!_

"I will not bore you with the real story monsieur! Hold on to your fantasy, it is much more entertaining than the truth!"

They both continued to laugh; Raoul cast his eyes toward the ceiling. Hoping Erik was being more successful.

XXXXX

Erik scrambled onto the ledge of the upper floor of the Inn. He knew he would have no problem getting into the room, he could get in almost anywhere without being seen. The real problem was finding out which room the Daroga was in to begin with. He was aware that he couldn't go barging into every room in the entire Inn; he did not know who might be lurking on the other side of the door.

He made his way around the ledge, silent as a panther, until he came to the window that sat at the end of the upstairs corridor. Opening it silently, he slid through and landed on his feet. He could hear the muffled voices of the Innkeeper and Raoul, _that's it, keep him talking, boy! I don't know how long this is going to take!_ Suddenly, another sound pulled his keen ears away from the conversation downstairs. Another pair of voices could be heard, ever so faintly, from one of the bedrooms down the corridor.

"_What do you mean she's gone?" _Lucien gasped_._

"_Just that brother, she's not in her room..." _

"_We told her to stay put! This is all we need, Bertrand and Agatha get back first thing tomorrow…and all we've got to show them is a half dead Persian!"_

"_Bertrand will be pleased about that; it means its one less person protecting the girl. Once that Persian scum tells us where she is, Bertrand can have his prize, and it'll all be over!" _Richmond said with glee.

On the other side of the door Erik's fists had tightened into rock. Black anger sheathed his soul. _Yes, soon it will be over - for both of you! _He smirked, _in a much more final way than you think! _

He looked at the door across the hallway. And somehow he just knew what lay inside. The years spent in Persia with Nadir had given him a sixth sense. He could always somehow sense the Daroga's presence, in good times and in bad. He took a pin from the folds of his cloak and tinkered with the lock. A satisfied smile graced his lips as he heard an encouraging click…

XXXXX

Nadir heard the door to his room open slowly, then - nothing. He did not hear it close, nor did he hear any footsteps. He wondered if he was just imagining the whole thing, the last shards of his sanity finally dripping away. He had been wrong to trust the girl. Nobody was coming for him; he was going to die here, on the cold floor of an Inn...

"Well, if it isn't the Daroga of Mazanderan!"

Nadir felt the tears well up in his eyes; he had truly never been happier to hear that voice.

"_E-Erik?" _he choked. Hoping he wasn't imagining it.

"Honestly, I let you go on one journey alone and look at the state you get yourself into!" Erik joked, trying to cover up his complete relief at finding his dearest friend alive.

"_E-enough of your__ humour…" _Nadir winced _"j-ust get me out of here…"_

Erik studied his bruised and battered friend. Even in the dark he could see the seriousness of the Daroga's injuries. Getting out was going to be a lot more difficult than he thought. Raoul's words echoed in his head.

_So, we have a plan for getting in, any ideas on getting out?_

At the time, Erik's only concern had been finding Nadir; he cursed Raoul and his level headed thinking, _he'll never let me forget this!_ He moaned inwardly.

"How bad are your injuries, Daroga? Can you walk?" Nadir gave a short laugh, and Erik knew his answer.

Erik began to cut the ties on Nadir's hands and feet, his mind was racing with a plan for escape. There was only one thing to be done; but he knew he would have to be as quick as possible.

"I hope you've been dieting Daroga…" Erik said with a sigh "I'm going to have to carry you!"

XXXXX _meanwhile…_

Christine sat by the fire, the flames dieing down, the smouldering coal seemed to hiss. She admired the way the coal glowed, violently and brilliantly, much like Erik's eyes. She held onto one of his shirts, needing something of his to comfort her. She could not sleep, not tonight; not the night the three most important men in her life could be in danger. No, there would be no rest for her on this night.

She also resented this helplessness; she was tired of playing the passive damsel. She wanted to help. Twice she had opened the front door and made her way out into the night. She knew what Erik's reaction would be. But that was not what continued to stop her. She knew Bertrand would be returning from Paris any day. He could even be there now. And the very thought of him caused her to feel a poisonous hate rise in her mouth. If he found her it would be over forever…

A shadow flew past the door of the study. Christine rose from the chair, and made her way to the door. She peaked out timidly.

She saw a petite figure standing at the front door, hood pulled over her head. Christine knew instantly who it was.

"What are you doing?" She asked quietly but firmly. Nicolette turned to face her, eyes wide.

"I – I thought you were asleep…"

"I couldn't sleep – not tonight. Where are you going?" Christine asked, although she already knew the answer.

"I have to go and help…I feel so useless here!" Christine rolled her eyes.

"Don't be so stupid, if you go there Agatha could find you! They will never let you be free…you will loose everything you have just gained."

"But I cannot just sit and wait, I need to know what is happening…I need to know they get out safely!"

Christine knew she meant Raoul. She had not missed the way Nicolette had looked at him. For it was the same way she had once gazed at him.

"…I'm not like you Christine…I need to be involved! I cannot sit here and wait…what if they don't come back" Christine felt her resolve snap.

"Don't say that, don't even think it. This is not a game!" She yelled "My friends are out there! One of them is seriously wounded…"

"Which is why they need our help!" Nicolette interrupted. "Come with me, Christine…they will need all the help they can get! We can just hide nearby and watch, just so we can see if they manage to get out…please, it will be safer with the two of us..."

Christine bit her lip, hard, until she could almost taste the blood. Part of her knew Nicolette was right, but the other part of her was scared. She knew Erik would go mad. He would probably never let her out of his sight again. But could she really stay here and do nothing? Perhaps Nicolette was right, if they were in trouble they would need help…and all of them had saved her at some point in her life. But she would once again be putting her own safety in jeopardy. She stayed frozen to the spot. Unsure of whether to stay or go…

XXXXX

Erik hoisted Nadir onto his shoulder. There was to be no graciously thought out escape plan. He would simply have to run down the stairs and straight out of the front door. And for once in his life, pray: pray that nobody saw them on the way out. He had pulled his hood over his face and wrapped Nadir in a blanket.

It was time to go…

He left the room swiftly, closing the door silently behind him. The voices of Nadir's assailants could still be heard. _Good, at least their occupied! _Erik thought. He tackled the stairs next, his toes, which were usually light and soundless, were unusually heavy under the weight of himself and the Daroga.

At the bottom of the stairs, the corridor split in two. Down one end he could hear the voices of Raoul and the Innkeeper. And the other lead to what he assumed to be the kitchen.

He made a hasty break for the kitchen; his feet were reacting faster than his mind. The door to the kitchen opened slowly, Erik stepped in cautiously, and was relived to find it unoccupied.

A smile crept onto his face when he saw a back door…

XXXXX

George had begun to fall asleep; his chubby chin flopped lazily onto his shoulder as slumber finally claimed him. He was still muttering away, something about a war brewing, but Raoul was no longer interested. He was just relived he had managed to handle his half of the plan. He was confident that George would be asleep for the duration of the evening. And surely Erik had managed to get Nadir out of the house by now; he was once the Phantom after all. _And I dread to think what else he has been in his time! _Raoul grimaced, remembering Nadir once utter the words, Angel of Doom. He was actually glad, for once, that he and Erik were fighting for the same cause.

He stood as silently as he could and made his way to the front door. His heavy boots disturbed the floorboards and they moaned under his feet. Raoul felt like telling them to be quiet. He made his way to the front door and out into the night, he began to make his way to where he and Erik had tied the horses. Something was moving in the distance and he knew Erik had managed to escape.

"Who the hell are you?" A gruff voice called from behind him. Raoul turned to see a young man, probably about his own age, standing not far from him. He looked to be drunk.

"I am a guest here, and needed some air. Please excuse me." Raoul said. Turning and attempting to walk away again.

"If you're a guest, how come I don't recognise you?" Raoul shuddered at the man's poor use of speech. But now was really not the time for a grammar lesson.

"I only arrived this evening." He said politely, before beginning to walk away.

"Don't walk away from me!" Richmond yelled, not trusting this aristocrat. "Tell me your name!" Raoul stopped. He did not know what to do, if he carried on walking he would take this man directly to Nadir and Erik. He needed to think.

"…I said tell me!" Raoul felt his soul fall from his body. The young man now held a pistol, aimed directly at his head.

XXXXX

Erik watched from behind the fallen tree. He had set Nadir down out of harms way and was about to return for Raoul. He had seen the exchange between the two men, and now a gun was being pointed at his ultimate advisory. He should have been pleased, but he wasn't. He knew what he had to do; he would have to save the Vicomte. He stood with a huff and began to walk towards the Inn, hiding in the comforting shadow of the trees.

Then he stopped, dead. A mass of blonde locks flew in front of Raoul. Nicolette now stood between the two men. She seemed to be begging the other man to spare the life of the Vicomte. _What the hell is she doing here! _He raged _I warned her, I am not responsible for her safety! _

All three of them stood as still as chess pieces, afraid to make the next move. Erik stood still, waiting for the right moment to strike. If he moved to soon he would risk the lives of both Nicolette and Raoul. His timing had to be immaculate. He pulled his lasso from his cloak, and twisted it around his fingers lovingly. He was ready.

But then, from the very corner of his eye, he saw a forth figure. It hovered at the edge of the wood, watching the exchange with horror. He would recognise that perfect form anywhere. Even in darkness, this was somebody he _was_ responsible for, the one he lived for. _Oh Christine, _he sighed, _why? Why did you come here?_

He suddenly felt very helpless; he stood still, wondering what on earth he was going to do next…

XXXXX

We should be back to normal weekly updates now! Sorry again for the horrid delay. Let me know what you think!


	24. Blackout

An: Thanks for the reviews for the last chapter guys; this explains why Christine went to the Inn.

Chapter 24: Blackout

Christine was looking at Nicolette, unsure and undecided. Why was Nicolette so adamant about going to the Inn? The thought was troubling her; and she could not yet decipher the motive.

Nicolette had her freedom now, and she did not know Erik, Raoul or Nadir enough to be willing to give her life for them. It was Christine who should be running there, she should be the one recklessly trying to help her angel and save her friends. But Christine knew they were only here because of her, and going there would mean they might have to save her _again_. She was beginning to feel like something of a hindrance. She just wanted this all to be over, and if that meant staying put, then so be it. It was time to grow up.

"No, Nicolette." She sighed "I cannot go there. And neither should you, we would end up causing more harm than good! Believe me, I have been in enough of these situations recently to last me a lifetime." She took a few private moments, remembering the man in the ally that had almost raped her, the intruder that had nearly taken her and killed Nadir; and Bertrand. The man hell bent on pursuing her to her grave. Enough was enough.

"If Nadir is as injured as you say he is Erik and Raoul will need all their strength to help him…" Christine continued, willing Nicolette to see sense.

"No, Christine, your wrong!" Nicolette argued "they will need our help, I just know it!"

"I know Erik and Raoul much more than you do," Christine snapped "I would trust them both with my life. Please, have some faith in them. It will be alright." Christine said with a smile, hoping this would convince the young blonde to stay. Nicolette stared at her for a few moments; she seemed to have taken in Christine's words.

"Come," Christine said "I will make us some tea." She turned and began to walk in the direction of the kitchen.

"I lied!" Nicolette called out suddenly. Christine stopped, but did not turn around.

"Lied? About what?" she asked with cold dread.

Silence loomed for a few moments. Christine could taste sickening bile in the back of her throat.

"I – I was followed…" Nicolette choked.

"When?" Christine asked icily.

"O-n my way here, just before they brought me inside, I turned and saw someone running away, a man. I lied when they asked me, I don't know why!" she put her head in her hands and began to sob. "I just said it - and then I was too afraid to take it back! I thought they might not believe me…and they _had_ to believe me, otherwise monsieur Khan could have died!"

Christine ran a panicked hand through her curls, her body shook. She tried to take a few steadying breaths, to stop herself from being sick. When she turned around her eyes were hollow and angry. This was the second time Nicolette had seen that look in her eyes. The first was in Fairmont House, when Christine had been told she was intended for Bertrand. It was a look of agonising disappointment and utter helplessness.

Christine found that she could not speak, nor shout, nor cry. Everything seemed to be hopeless.

"I'm _so_ sorry, Christine. That's why I need to go, I need to warn them. I have to try and put this right! If something happens it will be my fault, I cannot be free knowing I have caused all of this…" she looked to the floor sorrowfully "I'll return to Agatha…that's what I deserve…"

"Shut up!" Christine yelled, her resolve snapping, she needed Nicolette to calm down. "Shut up and stop being so ludicrous!" This was a side to Christine that Nicolette had never seen before, "Neither of us will _ever _return to that woman! You _deserve_ to be free…. I only wish you had told them the truth!" Tears began to well in Christine's eyes. The thought of Erik being in danger terrified her.

"How could you let them go, knowing you were putting them in danger?" Nicolette opened her mouth to answer, but then closed it sharply. Realising she did not know the answer herself.

Christine began to pace the floor, hands on hips. Terrible visions ravaged at her mind; Bertrand and his cronies waiting for Erik and Raoul, the two of them walking into an open trap. She could envision the smirk on Bertrand's face. The perverse twinkle in his eye as he pulled the trigger. He was probably on his way right now; on his way to claim his prize…

She shook the images from her head. Now was the time to be strong. She had faith in her Erik, if there was a trap, he would probably be able to smell it a mile away.

"Did you see who followed you?" she said, her voice sounding strong.

"I – I don't know, but it must have been one of the Piccard brothers, Bertrand's henchmen – who else could it have been?"

"Is Bertrand back from Paris?" Christine asked. Her voice did not betray her fear.

"No, well, at least I don't think so; they are not due back until tomorrow – but…" Nicolette paused.

"But – what?" Christine snapped.

"It's the brothers, Lucien and Richmond that worry me. They are killers, Christine, from what I have seen they have no qualms in killing. Be the victim innocent or guilty…"

"What are we to do then?" Christine asked throwing her hands up impatiently.

"I know what I have to do;" Nicolette said firmly "I have to put this right, I have to go Christine, with, or without you. How can we stay here? Knowing what awaits them! Can you abandon those you love to such a dark fate?"

The words, so innocently chosen, broke Christine. And she knew what she had to do. She left Madame Giry and Meg sleeping safely upstairs, she did not want either of them to be involved. Hopefully they would all be back safely before they awoke. She prayed as much anyway.

"Here, take this." Nicolette said, handing Christine a small dagger. She kept a small pistol for herself, which she placed into the garter around her thigh. Christine studied the dagger. She noticed a skull carved into the handle, and knew immediately who it belonged to.

"Where did you get these?" Christine asked, with an eyebrow raised.

"They were upstairs, that was in a small bag in the music room, and I found the pistol in the Vicomte's bureau."

Christine shook her head lightly, knowing how Erik would react to someone going through his belongings. There would be hell to pay! Oh, how she missed him, even his abominable temper.

"Come, Christine, we must leave now!" Nicolette urged, pulling Christine from her thoughts.

Christine put a black cape around her shoulders, and followed Nicolette out into the night.

XXXXX

The two girls could see the Inn, looming in the distance. Suddenly Christine did not feel so brave. She had the awful feeling that by merely being here, she was building her own tomb.

They had taken only one horse, and tied it up quite far away. Not wanting anyone to be aware of their presence. They had no particular plan. It would be easier for Nicolette to enter the Inn, as she was already a guest. Christine could not go inside. The Piccard brothers had been charged with finding her. She would be walking straight into Bertrand's hands. But, she did not want to linger outside in the dark, alone, either. Whatever she did she was putting herself in danger. She was beginning to think she should have followed her gut and stayed at the house. She felt a small amount of comfort however, knowing that Erik was certain to be nearby.

But he was going to be very, very angry.

Suddenly voices could be heard, male voices. One was calm and quiet, the other loud and angry. Instinct made both girls drop to their knees, fearing they would be seen. They tried to peek through the bushes, to seek the identity of these mystery voices. Christine was certain they would be able to hear her thundering heart. They began to crawl, slowly and silently, nearer to the voices. Suddenly the faces became clear.

Christine felt sick; one of them was Raoul, being held at gunpoint. The other man was a stranger to her eyes. But whoever it was, he looked to be half crazed.

"Mon dieu!" whispered Nicolette, "That's Richmond Piccard, he will do something stupid! I must stop him, he'll kill le Vicomte!" she stood up and began to run towards the two men. Christine jumped up and tried to grab her, but Nicolette slipped through her grasp. All Christine could do was watch on in dismay.

Nicolette charged forward, racing towards the unfolding scene.

XXXXX

Erik kept a steely eye on his beloved. He cursed her in his head, what on earth had possessed her to come! His anger was parallel only to his love; it seemed this girl was capable of pushing his every emotion to the limit. She was such an intelligent girl, why would she walk into the arena of absolute danger? Erik could not fathom the reasons why. He tried desperately to calm himself and work out his next move. The situation had just become a lot more complicated.

There would be time to be angry with Christine when this was all over.

He had to think of a way to reach Christine and get the gun wielding maniac away from the Vicomte and Nicolette. He peeled his eyes away from Christine just for a second, and looked at the scene before him. Nicolette was pleading with the young man to drop his weapon. Raoul looked surprisingly calm. He did not know how this was going to turn out.

He looked back to where Christine had been. But he was greeted only by the dark terrain of trees and bushes.

Christine was nowhere to be seen.

XXXXX

"Please, Richmond, do not harm him! Don't make this situation worse!" Nicolette begged urgently.

Richmond stared at her with utter distain, the way one might look at a rat that had crawled out of a sewer. He did not move.

"Move, _whore_, or I shall be forced to kill both of you!"

"He has nothing to do with any of this, Richmond. Let him be!" Nicolette pleaded.

"If he has nothing to hide, then he can tell me his name, can't you monsieur!" Richmond spat mockingly.

"I mean no harm to any of you," Raoul said desperately "My name is Victor Lignier, I was passing on my way to Paris, and I simply needed somewhere to stay for the evening…"

"Why were you taking a detour into the woods then?" Richmond asked.

"I – couldn't sleep, I needed some air before I retired for the evening. That is all, I apologise for startling you monsieur!"

Richmond did not look completely convinced, but he began to lower the pistol.

Raoul's eyes searched wildly into the woods; surely Erik would not just leave him here? Not after he had helped in the rescue of Nadir? But this was Erik; Raoul grimaced, thinking that he had been wrong to put _any _trust in the masked man. This was a perfect opportunity for Erik; he would be rid of his biggest rival and he would return to Christine as the conquering hero._ I should have known he'd pull a stunt like this!!_ Raoul snorted inwardly.

Richmond had lowered the pistol; he now held it loosely in his hand. Raoul shivered with relief. But he was still uncertain about how this was going to turn out. The gun was no longer pointed at his head, put its owner was clearly insane.

There was a long silence as the three of them stood statuesque. A slight breeze hummed through the trees, it seemed to be nature's way of soothing the plight of desperate humanity.

Suddenly single shot fired out into the night air.

Richmond looked shocked, his face contorted in disbelief and sad surprise.

The shot had come from behind him; blood seeped through his shirt as he fell to the floor. Nicolette had flown into Raoul's arms, and they looked on in horror as his life drained away before their eyes. Nicolette tried to scream, but could only manage a soundless, hysterical cry. Richmond's blood trickled across the stone pavement.

Raoul's first thought was Erik; but it did not seem right. This was simply not his style. He had never known Erik to carry a gun. The Phantom liked to get his hands dirty.

Then his shocked eyes landed on a female form running into the woods.

XXXXX _meanwhile…_

Erik made his way through the woods; his deadly determination to diffuse the situation had flown from his head. He now had an unbridled urge to find Christine. He was angry, so very angry. But he needed to find her. Panic was dissolving his soul, a stinging force that made him run like a madman.

He was sure she would have an explanation, there had to be a reason, she would not have come here on a whim. But he could think of no acceptable justification for her being here…they would be having serious words.

XXXXX

Christine had crouched down again. It was much more difficult to see, but she was afraid the mad gunman would turn and see her at any moment. And if he was the one Bertrand had charged with finding her, she would be in real trouble.

She looked up at the Inn; it really was a beautiful old building. It looked like something from a forgotten time, in a distant, yet familiar dream. Strange, how you notice such normal things in the chaos of extreme emotion. She had not noticed it the last time they had been here...

A gloved hand stretched across her mouth and a strong arm held her hands at her sides. She tried desperately to wriggle from the solid grasp, adrenaline pumped through her veins and she found the strength in her legs to kick back.

"Do not struggle, mademoiselle!" a familiar voice sung into her ear. Her body was immediately still. The ice in his voice chilled her soul.

Then everything went black.

XXXXX

Erik hid in the shadow; he could see the spot where Christine had been. But now, it was empty. There was nothing. He could make out the dents in the fallen leaves where she had obviously been crouching, but now she was gone.

Never in his life had he known such blistering fear.

Then he remembered the voices that had come from the room. _The Piccard brothers, _if one of them was out here causing terror, then no doubt the other one would be somewhere too. He would have seen her hovering, as Erik had, and taken his chance to steal her away.

If it was possible he felt himself slide deeper into a crazed mania.

Erik began to creep towards the Inn, his soul full of black wrath. He would sever the man's head from his shoulders if he had so much as made a bruise to her pale flesh.

He came upon the back door; he would slide inside silently and catch the brute off guard. He was going to enjoy every moment of disposing of this putrid life form.

He opened the door and made a move to enter; then he heard a gun fire…

XXXXX

Erik charged around to the front of the house, panic eating ravenously at his heart. He saw Raoul and Nicolette standing by the body, the body of the Raoul's assailant.

"What happened here?" he demanded. Neither of them answered, the shock of what they had just seen was still too raw. "Answer me!" Erik yelled with impatient rage. The sight of a dead body was nothing new to him, during his life he had become somewhat numbed to the tragedy of a bleeding corpse.

"T-he shot came from the woods -." Raoul began sheepishly "…at first I assumed it to be you, but there was a woman, running into the woods, well, at least that's what I think I saw!"

"Was it Christine?" Erik asked hopefully.

"Christine? Why would? - why is Christine here?" Raoul asked, glaring at Nicolette.

"There is no time for this, Vicomte, was it Christine you saw running into the woods?" Erik asked again. Raoul shook his head slowly, tears forming in his blue eyes.

"It was not Christine." A strange voice called from behind them. They all turned to see Lucien Piccard, who was gazing mournfully at his brother's lifeless body. "I saw it happen"

"Who are you?" Erik hissed darkly.

"I am Lucien Piccard, and that is my younger brother, Richmond. Or rather, _was _my younger brother…"

"Tell me exactly what you saw!" Erik raged.

"I was sleeping upstairs, and I awoke to see Richmond holding a gun to you" he pointed at Raoul. "I was about to come down, but then he lowered it. I thought it was going to be alright…" his voice was thick with grief.

Erik's mind went into turmoil, his whole body tensed as he asked his next question.

"Who was it you saw? Who killed your brother?"

When Lucien answered, his tone was as dark as the masked man.

"Agatha Farnsworth; I saw her with my own eyes." Richmond said as he walked over to the body, he knelt beside it, with his head bowed.

Erik's dark mood was galvanised into an unrepentant fury. All he could see was black. He knew exactly what had happened to Christine. _His Christine_. He sank to his knees.

One thing was certain; there was going to be much more blood spilled on this night.

XXXXX

Christine had been dragged into a carriage; the sack that had been placed over her head obscured her senses. All she knew is that they were speeding away in haste. Her heart had not stopped pounding since she heard his voice; the cold and callous voice of Edward Bertrand.

The sack was lifted from her head; and although she could now see, her legs and hands were bound with rope. She winced at the pain.

"I would loosen them, my dear, but I can't be certain that you won't try to run off again!" Bertrand hissed.

He sat opposite her, dressed impeccably, with a top hat resting in his lap. Just like any other gentleman of society. _Nothing could be further from the truth!_ Christine thought with scorn.

"This is a lovely ring!" he said gleefully, holding the ring Erik had given her in his hand. Christine felt the absence of it on her finger. "How touching, that you still mourn the passing of that monster, perhaps there is still some hope that you will learn to love me!" he said with a twitch to his lip.

"Do not compare yourself to him!" Christine said with utter contempt.

"No, I suppose I cannot. You see I am joyfully alive, whereas, he is burning in the smouldering caves of hell!" he said with a delighted smirk.

Christine did not answer. _That's what you think monsieur! And he shall take great pleasure in destroying you! _

_If__ he ever finds me…_

"Where are you taking me?" she asked coldly.

"To Paris, It has all been arranged, we shall be wed tomorrow!"

Tears fell freely down Christine's face. Nobody could help her now. She needed to find a way out of this herself.

XXXXX

Sorry for another cliff! I am writing the next chapter as we speak!


	25. Aftermath

AN: Another chapter for you

Chapter 26: Aftermath.

Erik was on his knees; if he had been a religious man, he would have prayed.

But Erik was not a religious man.

He felt as though his own lasso was around his neck. His rage and grief conflicted dangerously, causing his soul to asphyxiate. He could hear the sobs of Lucien Piccard, the lamented cry of someone tormented by the loss of a loved one. Erik shared in his pain; it was as if his pulse has been callously ripped from his body. He was once again a vessel void of love and feeling. Only his murderous wrath kept him alive.

Christine was gone. His reason for living was lost. It should be him lying on the pavement in his own blood. He had failed her; and now she was gone…

She had been stolen. _ She had been taken from him. _

He seethed, she was not lost; she had been taken!

He would find her…

He stood, straightened, and tightened his fists. His bones cracked beneath the leather gloves. His mind went into a hysterical overdrive._ There could still be time! _He had been wasting precious moments in his own self pity. There was still a chance to save Christine. He was galvanised into action with this sudden realisation.

Erik ran blindly into the woods, past where Christine had been crouching, and into the terrain beyond. He pushed branches out of his way forcefully; his keen eyes searched the floor. He knew there would be something. There was always something. The wise words of Nadir rang loudly in his ears. _There is always a clue…you just need to see past the obvious. _He followed the disrupted patterns of leaves; there were two sets of marks, one belonging to Christine, the other to her abductor.

This trail went on only a few yards, and then stopped. Erik felt a hammer in his gut, the next set of markings were very clear; carriage wheels. They would be far away by now. But it was a trail nonetheless, and he would follow it to the gates of hell if it meant bringing Christine back alive and well.

He would find her…

Erik emerged from the woods moments later, with Nadir over his shoulders. He strode into the inn brazenly and walked up a flight of stairs. He made the Daroga comfortable in one of the beds and then returned outside.

He took in the scene before him, none of them had moved since he entered the woods.

Raoul was in a trance, staring at the grief stricken brother and the bloodied corpse. Nicolette was crying, but Erik could feel no sympathy for her. Christine would not have come if it had not been for her; he was certain of it. He looked at Lucien Piccard, the tears had stopped, and he now stared distantly at the body of his brother.

"Vicomte!" Erik called, breaking the smothering silence. The blue eyes of the young boy snapped to the masked man. "Go and get the innkeeper, tell him we require his _assistance!_" Erik's tone made Raoul shudder; he nodded sheepishly, and began to walk towards the inn. He returned moments later, with George trotting behind him.

George looked in horror at the scene before him. He had heard the gunshot, and hidden away inside, paralysed with fear. He wished he had never met any of these people. Richmond Piccard was dead; George felt a shameful sense of relief. Richmond had been an underhand and scrupulous individual; he would not mourn his passing.

Then his eyes landed on the most fearful sight of all, the towering black figure that glared at him with a fierce intensity. Who was this masked stranger? He looked like Lucifer himself, he had come to claim the soul of Richmond Piccard?

"I have placed the Daroga in an empty room upstairs; I leave him in your care." Erik said coolly, his eyes never leaving George. "He is severely wounded; you must watch him at all times. No harm will befall him; do you understand?" George nodded hesitantly, knowing this was not a request. He then made his way back into the inn, to check on his new patient.

Erik looked at Nicolette, who met his gaze. The weight of his stare made her feel like she was drowning. How could Christine love this man? He was cold and menacing; his eyes seemed to be on fire. She did not think such beings could exist above the ground. She knew he blamed her for Christine's abduction, and she could not blame him; she blamed herself.

"You will stay here also; help the innkeeper care for the Daroga." Erik commanded to her softly.

"No, please, monsieur let me help! I want to come with -." Erik held up his hand swiftly.

"Enough!" he snapped. "You have _helped _enough already! You will stay here. And this time, you will not disobey me!" Nicolette merely gulped in response. Erik was satisfied with that answer.

"Vicomte!" Erik called, Raoul's blue eyes shot to the masked man. "You will come with me, I have found some tracks left by Bertrand, and they should lead us to Christine. We must move now!" Raoul nodded, and the two of them began to stride towards the woods.

"He is not stupid…" A voice called out huskily. Erik stopped dead in his tracks and whirled around.

"Say that again." he sneered.

"Bertrand, he is not stupid…it will not be so easy to find them." Lucien said, still looking at his brother's body. "…let me come with you."

"Ha! Absolutely not! I am aware that you and your brother are in his pocket! I have no reason to trust you."

"My service to that man has gone on long enough, and it was terminated the moment my brother got shot…who do you think gave the orders to have him killed!"

Erik was silent.

"I will help you find them, and then take great pleasure in avenging Richmond's death!"

"You'll have to fight me for the honour of killing Bertrand!" Erik hissed. Lucien shivered. He had never heard such cold hostility. This masked stranger was clearly not to be made an enemy out of.

"That fate shall be decided when we get there." Lucien stated.

"Get where?" Raoul asked.

"There is a house nobody knows of, a place of complete secrecy…this is the only place he would take her…"

"And, what is it about this place that makes it so _top secret" _Erik asked, becoming impatient.

"It is where his mother married his father, a summer house with a small church in the grounds. Bertrand told me once of a family summer they shared there. His only happy family memory, I am almost certain this is where he will take her…"

"Almost?" Erik echoed "Almost is not good enough!"

"It's true!" Nicolette gasped, coming to stand next to the men "I heard him speak of this place to Agatha once. That is where he will make Christine his bride…" she stopped when once again Erik's eyes met hers. Before Erik could react, George came running out of the inn, panic smeared across his chubby face.

"Monsieur!" he called, looking at Erik. "The Persian has taken a turn for the worse; I do not know what to do! Please, come and help me!" Erik was completely torn, he wanted to rush inside to the aid of his only friend, but he was losing Christine more with each lapsing moment.

"Monsieur?" George asked again.

"You go and find Christine," Raoul said, "I will stay here with Nicolette and George, and help Nadir." Erik was silent; he gave the young boy an uncertain stare. "Go to her…she needs you." Raoul finished, unbelieving of his own words. But it was the truth, she did need Erik. They seemed to need each other.

"Thank you." Erik said sincerely. Raoul was shocked; this was the first time Erik had spoken to him with anything other than sarcasm and mild contempt.

The two men nodded awkwardly at each other, both unsure of this new, fragile truce. They both knew it wouldn't last, and there was a strange comfort in knowing that after all of this was over, they could retreat back to the comfort of their mutual hatred.

Erik helped Lucien wrap his brother's body in a blanket, and then the two men made their way to the woods.

The time for revenge was seeping closer…

XXXXX

Bertrand looked across at his future bride. She had stopped struggling and fidgeting, she had stopped glaring at him, and she had stopped crying. He had undone the bindings on her ankles, but left her hands tied. There was no danger of her escaping; not now, she looked as though she had accepted her fate.

She now stared calmly out of the window, watching the slow rising sun. Perhaps one day she would learn to love him, after all, she had loved the masked monster. Maybe there was a chance for him yet. Hopefully her hate would melt away with the soft rays of morning sun.

She was so beautiful; Bertrand had seen many beautiful girls in his life, some even matching her lovely looks. But it wasn't just her looks that made Christine beautiful. It was the fragile inner fire, the mystery, and the innocence that oozed from her. She was unlike any other girl he had ever beheld. There was something truly haunting about her.

And this was why he had to have her. Nobody else would do.

Christine kept her gaze at the horizon, her eyes didn't falter. As long as she looked to the horizon, out into the free space beyond, she was not here. She was not in this carriage with this hideous toad of a man. No, not a toad, she would not insult the creatures in such a way. There was nothing she could compare him to. His depravity went too deep; she suspected that even a snake would have a higher moral code than he.

She tried not to think of Erik, she knew if she did she would only cry again. And she was determined to show Bertrand no emotion of any kind; not even her grief. She tried to remember her last words to Erik, but she couldn't. Had she told him she loved him? Had she been angry at him? She could not remember. She wanted that moment back more than anything, even if it was an angry moment. She would rather spend her eternity feuding with Erik, than spend another moment in the company of this weasel. No, not a weasel either, he was even lower than that.

"How long?" she asked tonelessly, eyes still fixed at the horizon.

"I'm afraid you'll have to speak up, _my love_. And is it too much to ask that you look at me when you address me?" Bertrand hissed. Christine did not move, nor did she look at him.

"I asked, how long monsieur? Until we reach our destination?" she said loudly. Bertrand felt angry at her lack of respect; he would not be spoken to in such a way! He reached forward and forced her to look at him, his cold hand held her chin tightly.

"I shall have to teach you some manner's once we're married!" He seethed. Christine winced slightly at the feel of his breath on her face. She regarded him with utter contempt.

"I would rather die, than call myself your wife!"

"Then I shall build you a lovely tomb to live in, because you _will_ be my wife! Much sooner than you think!" Christine could feel liquid hate course through her veins.

Suddenly, Christine noticed that the carriage was beginning to slow down, and then it stopped completely. This might be her only chance. She bit down on Bertrand's hand; she felt her teeth sink slightly into the flesh. Bertrand jolted back in pain; Christine kicked the carriage door open with both feet and jumped down. Her hands were still bound, this caused her balance to falter, but as soon as her feet made contact with the ground, she ran. She knew she would only have a few moments head start; Bertrand would be after her in seconds. She tried to keep her feet as light as possible, remembering her ballet training.

Trees seemed to jump out at her, and the branches seemed to try and hold her back. The fallen leaves crumpled and cracked beneath her feet. She found she could not breathe; the adrenaline was all that kept her moving. She ran faster, and harder, her speedy steps taking her in an unknown direction. The rising sun blinded her and everything seemed to be a whirl of colour. But still she ran…she had to get away…

She hit a tree, and fell to the floor in a confused heap. She struggled to get up, but as she managed to get to her feet, she was pushed down again. She squinted up at the tree, to see it smirking down at her. Her heart fell, this was not a tree; it was Agatha Farnsworth. A face she hoped never to see again. Agatha bent down and thrust Christine to her feet.

"You seem to have lost your fiancée," Agatha said with icy mockery "come, let me return you to him!"

"No!" Christine sobbed, trying desperately to writhe away. "Please, let me go! I won't tell anybody I have seen you!" Agatha laughed.

"Even if I believed you, dearest, that is something I cannot do!" she pulled Christine along with her, Christine felt her soul die as she saw Bertrand storming towards them.

"I believe this belongs to you!" Agatha smirked.

"Indeed," he hissed as he massaged his hurt hand. "It seems I'm going to have to keep her under lock and key for a while!" Bertrand said, talking about Christine as if she were not there. He grabbed her and pulled her through the woods, back into the carriage. Agatha climbed in after them.

"It seems we missed quite an evening at the inn!" she said.

"Did you manage to get both of them?" Bertrand asked with a twitch to his lip.

"No, just the younger one, Lucien was nowhere to be seen! Oh, and it seems my little Nicolette has betrayed us! She was risking her life for the Vicomte!"

"The job must be finished, Agatha, I don't care who you have to kill to do it, but _both _Piccard brothers need to be disposed of. They know too much…especially Lucien."

"I'll let the dust settle, they will be waiting for something to happen. I will return under the cover of night, and take them by surprise… I'll take Sidney with me; it doesn't matter if that useless lump gets caught in the crossfire!" They were both grinning at each other wildly, clearly pleased with their cunning plan. Christine was disgusted; she had never felt such abominable hate for two people. They were the cause of all of this, two evil souls driven by lust and greed. She hated them…

Christine realised that if the opportunity presented itself, she would have no qualms in killing them herself.

XXXXX

More soon…


	26. Unholy Matrimony

AN: So, so sorry for the delays with this story! I hope you enjoy the chapter…

Chapter 26: Unholy Matrimony.

Christine prodded at the plate of food she had been given. She refused to eat; instead she had made a pile of unappetising slush. She was sat at a vanity, in what he had called _her new room. _She looked at her reflection, and was sickened and appalled by what shared back. Her reflection was a stranger, this was not Christine Daae! This was an imposter in a wedding dress. And a distasteful one at that! An imposter who was to be married at sunset…she slammed the fork down in rage. She did not cry; no more tears. She had promised herself.

Agatha had dressed her. She had pulled the ties of the corset so hard Christine was surprised that she had enough air in her lungs to take a breath. But there had been no words of scorn, no hostile remarks from Madame Farnsworth. She had been unusually silent. Occasionally, Christine thought she saw sadness in the woman's eyes. A very slight and distant pity, as if now the game of cat and mouse was over, she finally realised what she had done.

But Christine pushed the stupid thoughts from her mind. Even if Agatha was capable of feeling any fragments of remorse, she was too wicked and corrupt to ever be changed. Nothing she did or did not feel now could change the past.

Christine continued to stare at herself. Her body was flooded with the sensational urge to get up and run, but she could not. Her feet were bound together, bound to the chair. Instead the energy she felt coursed through her body with no release, making the hair on her pale arms stand on end.

She picked the plate up, and threw it against the wall. She smiled as the ruined food slid down the pristine wall, marring its perfection. This house was false perfection. Just like its owner, everything about it was a complete farce. True perfection is always imperfect. One man had helped her to find this strange truth. And now she knew it, the world had seemed a clearer place. It seems that when you stop looking for things to be perfect, true happiness can be found. Erik was not perfect, not in any sense of the word, but he made her heart bleed with love.

She had made a vow to herself. This was not where it was going to end. _It won't end this way_. She promised her heart. They would have to undo the binds sometime. There would be an escape…she would escape, she would, she would…

"You are…a vision!" said a voice from the doorway. Christine kept her gaze at her reflection. "Oh, and I see you have been decorating…" Bertrand smirked as he took in the sight of dripping food. "I would have preferred that you used flowers, but suit yourself! This _is_ your room…for now." Her eyes shot to his.

"For now?" she echoed. She noticed that his eyes widened at the sound of her soft voice.

"Yes, tomorrow you will join me in the master suite. _Our room_. You will like it."

"I'm sure I will monsieur." She said with an ironic smile.

"Edward, please, call me Edward."

"I'm sure I will, _Edward_" she said with disdain. Knowing it would irritate him.

"I have this for you." he said, choosing to ignore her animosity, he held out his hand to her, in it was a ring. It was a gold band with a huge pink diamond in the centre, clear diamonds surrounded it. It looked like something previously owned by Carlotta. Disgusting, was the only word Christine could think of to describe it.

"I preferred the one you took from me," she said.

"You will soon learn to love this one, you will forget about the other one…I thought it was rather ghastly, too gothic for my taste."

"I will never forget it. It seems we do not share the same ideals when it comes to things of beauty, monsieur. I will _never _forget that ring." She took the ring from him, eyed it with distaste, and slammed it down on the vanity. Bertrand scowled slightly.

"You will, in time. For tonight you will be mine…legally."

"How sad," she mused "that you need to force a woman to marry you…"

"Forgive me, mademoiselle, but I do not see any young men charging here to _defend your_ _honour. _It seems you are as lonely as I am." He hissed. Christine noted how the way he spoke resembled that of a spoilt child.

He came to stand behind her, so she had no choice but to look at him in the mirror. He ran a cold finger across her cheek. Christine bit down on her tongue, hard. She wanted, more than anything, to wipe the sordid smirk off his face. To tell him that Erik was very much alive. She would enjoy watching him squirm. But she knew her best chance of escape was if he believed Erik to be dead. She wanted Erik to be here now. She wanted him more than she ever had before. But she was determined to save herself this time. Erik could not save her, nobody knew where she was. She had to save herself. She had to save herself for both of them.

But Erik had not been there. As she and Nicolette had watched the drama unfold, Raoul was there. But Erik was not. Why was he not there? He could not be dead. No, she would not even allow the thought to enter her mind. He had promised her, he would never leave her again. He had promised. And she believed him.

"What time does the priest arrive?" she asked.

"Six. By half past the hour you will be Christine Bertrand…" he said as he waving his hand in a regal way. She smiled. Only because she knew she would never be known by that name. She had come too far, she had finally found herself. She had found her heart. This was not the man she would marry. She smiled because even if she was never found, or could not escape, she would rather die than spend the night with this man. So, either way, he would not win.

"Why are you smiling?" he asked with a suspicious twitch.

"I was wondering, will you keep me in shackles for the rest of my life?" she teased "it will be awfully hard for me to walk down the aisle with my legs tied together!"

"Do not fret; it will not be for the rest of your life…only until you forget how to run!"

Christine was silent.

"I shall see you at the ceremony…my love."

He closed the door behind him, leaving Christine to stare into the mirror.

The clock chimed four. In two hours, she was to be married.

XXXXX _approaching dusk…_

When they passed the moulding tree stump for the second time, Erik had an irritated suspicion that his new companion was quite lost. Erik abhorred stupidity at the best of times, but this was an emergency, not a leisurely ride.

"Do you actually have any idea where we are?" Erik asked, as he brought his horse to an abrupt halt.

"Of course I do!" Lucien snapped "I am no imbecile; I know these woods very well!"

"But is this not the same rotting tree stump we passed not more than half an hour ago?" Erik said, pointing at the moss covered stump.

"Ah," Lucien said, bringing his horse to stop. "Well, I lost my bearings back there for a moment or two. But we are on the right track now. I promise you."

"Well then, let's get there faster!" Erik said. Time was something he didn't have much of.

"Tell me one thing first."

"What?"

"Miss Daae, you love her very much, don't you…I've never seen anything quite like it…" he noticed the visible temple in the Erik's head pulsate, it looked purple. His jaw was suddenly very tight.

"We should make haste; there is no time to waste on idle conversation!" Erik said, beginning to trot forward.

"I will take you no further until you answer me. Do you love her? More than your own life?" Lucien called after him. Erik stopped. The muscles around his neck and jaw were rigid.

"Yes," the masked man said gruffly "why is it any concern of yours? Do you think it impossible that _I_ could love another? Monsters are capable of feelings too!"

"I know, monsieur, believe it or not I actually loved a girl once, Elaine. She was everything to me. The only person I have ever cared for, accept Richmond. And I have been a monster in my time…" Lucien said distantly.

"What happened to her?" Erik asked, softening slightly.

"She was killed right before me. Because she had witnessed one of my crimes, I watched her die, just like Richmond. _Exactly_ like Richmond, in her own blood."

"I am sorry for your loss." Erik said quietly. He knew what it was like to see someone you love die because of careless actions. But he kept that memory shut away. "Who killed her?" Lucien was silent for a long moment.

"The same man that intends to marry your Christine." He said gravely. "The same man that has ruined my life..."

Erik swallowed hard, he wanted to kill Bertrand. He had dreamt about squeezing the life from his spoilt little throat for months. It had become an obsession, he was consumed by hate. But now, in this moment, all he wanted was Christine's safety. Just to hold her and protect her. Nothing else mattered now; only her. He looked at Lucien, a man truly with nothing to live for, only his revenge. And Erik realised, that for the first time, he had so much to live for. In comparison with his strange companion, he had everything to live for.

"He will pay for all of his crimes tonight, fear not. But we are running out of time…" Erik said urgently. Lucien sprang back to life.

"Your right, follow me! We will be there within the hour!"

Erik kicked the stirrups on his horse and charged after Lucien.

XXXXX

Father Pierre White arrived at the secluded house at half past five. It was a magnificent house, but the outside had been seriously neglected. So it was when aristocrats had so many houses, there were too many to keep track of. He had seen many beautiful buildings fall into disrepair because of the upper class need to own and conquer.

He had been told he was to conduct a wedding ceremony. It was to be a very small and _private _ceremony, so private that neither family were to be present. At first, he had turned the offer down flat. He was not going to encourage what was obviously a secret union between two lovesick adolescents. But then he had, very politely, been told the name of the groom, Edward Bertrand. The same _Edward Bertrand_ that had been sending donations to the church for the last six months. And what generous donations they had been!

This had obviously been his agenda all along. Father White felt stupid, so very stupid; he should have seen this one coming. He was too indebted to Bertrand, tangled in a web he could not see a way out of. He knew he could deny no request Bertrand had for him.

He wondered what the bride was like…

XXXXX

"Any final wishes?" Agatha spat as she and Christine stood outside the large white doors. She pulled the veil down over Christine's pale face.

"Too many…" Christine smirked, "Any regrets?" She asked the older woman.

"No, none whatsoever, you are getting exactly what you deserve."

"_So will you_." Christine said under her breath, too quietly for Agatha to hear clearly. Agatha threw open the doors, Christine let her eyes travel across the rose petals that were laid out across the floor. At the end of the floral path stood her future husband; bile stung her throat.

"One wish?" she asked Agatha again.

"Yes, within reason."

"I wish my last walk as a free woman to be without these binds on my ankles!" Agatha shot a look at Bertrand, who nodded.

"Very well!" she sighed. She began to cut the ties; Christine could feel her pulse race: it was time to do something stupid. She lowered her head slightly, so her delicate mouth hovered near Agatha's ear.

"_He's alive!" _she whispered. Agatha looked up in shock, just in time to meet Christine's knee. Blood from her nose shot across the carpet of rose petals. She fell into a candelabrum; which hit the floor with a thud. The flames consumed the petals in a dance of smouldering swirls and smoke.

Christine ran.

So did Bertrand.

XXXXX

A short distance from the beautiful estate, two riders became paralysed with horror. Smoke came from one of the upstairs windows, and drifted out to mingle with the pure air of early evening. An orange glow could be seen behind the shattered glass.

One of the riders called out a word, a word that sent chills through his companion.

"CHRISTINE!"

XXXXX


	27. Hell’s Fury

Chapter 27: Hell's Fury.

Agatha awoke to see the fire spread ravenously, hungrily destroying the room. She tried to climb to her feet, she had consumed a lot of smoke and her head felt light. Everything seemed to be burning. She touched her swollen face, and pulled her hands away to see them covered in her own blood. Rage bubbled within her, she needed to escape, and she needed to see Christine Daae bleed…

She was to be the only one left in the room. Unsure of whether the others had escaped, she scrambled out into the hallway. They were on the top floor, and the fire looked to be spreading to the main staircase. A crippling cough had seized her lungs as she crawled across the landing. She crawled as quickly as she could, trying to get away from the raging fire.

She suddenly became aware of another figure on the landing. Clad in white lace, crouching on the floor and trying to catch a breath. Her hands were still bound together.

Agatha smirked; there was still strength in her body to finish this wretch off. There was always enough strength to make sure Christine Daae did not leave this house alive.

XXXXX

Instinct had made Christine kick Agatha across the face. All the hate that had festered away inside her was released in a swift and violent strike. There was some kind of morbid satisfaction at seeing the woman that had tormented her for months in agony on the floor. But Christine did not have long to relish in her small victory, Agatha had knocked a candelabrum down, and now fire was spreading everywhere. Fast.

She ran, but then realised she did not know the way out. She ran down the corridor, hoping to find another staircase; but all she could see was a maze of corridors. She looked back in the direction of the burning room; Bertrand emerged, and began to descend the large staircase. She crouched down, out of sight. If he found her now it really would be over. The smoke was hurting her lungs, she tried to breathe, but the tight corset and suffocating smoke were proving to be a deadly combination. What little air her body was being allowed felt like poison. She held onto the table next to her and tried to stand, but something knocked her back to the floor.

Agatha tackled Christine to the ground, the assault sent both women flying, bodies tangled together. Agatha clasped her hands around Christine's soft throat, she squeezed hard, and she wanted to hurt this girl so much it was making her fingertips shake. Her bloody hands caused red smudges to appear on Christine's porcelain skin, in a violent clash of crimson and white. Christine writhed and wriggled beneath her, she could not move, her hands were bound and Agatha sat atop her legs. But she was quite strong for such a slight girl; Agatha could only commend her for that.

"Why do men fall in love with you so easily?" Agatha hissed. Her were teeth clenched and blood still lingered on her face, her eyes were mad. "You are pretty, I'll give you that. But you're so damned spoilt!" Christine was coughing, desperate for air "That's what makes me hate you…you are spoilt emotionally, so many people love you, and yet you always seem so alone. What an enchanting contradiction you are! Well, not for much longer…" she added more pressure to Christine's throat, Christine could feel a darkness begin to creep upon her, and Agatha smiled as Christine's eyes bulged slightly. Her face was beginning to change colour "that _evil _masked monster is obsessed with you, if he _is_ alive, what a sad life he will have without you. But then, I suppose he is used to being alone…nobody that hideous could ever be loved…your death will be his undoing!"

Agatha felt a hard blow to her side; Christine had managed to free one of her legs, and kicked the woman with her last shard of strength. Christine crawled back, trying in vain to breathe, but her bound hands made it hard to move. The fire was getting stronger with every passing moment. She didn't think she was going to get out of this alive…

Agatha came at her again, this time she slapped Christine across the cheek. The young girl fell to the ground; limp and lifeless. Her long hair sprayed out across the floor. The white dress and blood made her reminiscent of a fallen angel. She did not look to be breathing.

Agatha felt satisfied. There was no way Christine would have the strength to move now. She would let the fire end what she had started, if the girl was even still alive, that is. She smiled to herself and turned and tried to get up. When she was on her knees, she became aware of a tall shadow standing behind her. Her eyes travelled up the figure.

She gulped.

XXXXX _meanwhile…_

Erik rode up to the house in blind panic, reason and revenge gone from his mind. Lucien followed closely. He noticed that the masked man did not take his eyes from the house, he seemed to be analysing it, taking in every inch of its construction in a few seconds. When they were near enough to the house, Erik jumped down from his horse and began to run. Lucien followed, but Erik did not charge into the front door like Lucien had expected, he seemed to be heading for the back of the house.

"We should go in the front!" Lucien called.

"There is no '_we'_..." Erik hissed over his shoulder, then he realised, without Lucien, he would never have found this place. "The fire is at the front of the house; my guess is that it will spread to the front staircase first. Old houses like this do not take long to burn…" his words hung in the air for a second "I'm going to use the servant's staircase; it should be the last place the fire will spread to. And I will have more time to find Christine. You should linger by the front door, the fire will not be there yet, and I'll wager all my money that Bertrand is the first one to descend the main staircase. Cowards always save themselves first…then you can do what you want with him."

"Do you no longer wish to take your revenge?" Lucien asked.

"All I want is Christine…as long as he is dead, I'll be satisfied."

Lucien tried to take in all of what Erik had said. "How do you know so much about these big houses?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"I have designed many, and I own one myself…" Erik said flatly "if you find Christine before I do, please, forget everything else, we need to get her out…"

"Consider it done." Said Lucien with a sad smile, Erik nodded and ran to the back of the house.

XXXXX

He was right. The servant's stairwell was void of smoke, at least for the moment. He charged up the stairs, seeing Christine's face with every step he took. This made him run faster. Then he heard something, footsteps coming towards him, he stopped, put his back against the wall, and waited. The steps came closer, and Erik was shocked to see a priest running towards him. The priest stopped at the sight of Erik, he turned white.

"Is there anyone behind you?" Erik demanded. The priest shook his head sheepishly.

"The girl – the young girl, what happened to her? Did you make her marry him?" Erik was now frantic; he shook the priest by his robe. The fire in his eyes was more furious than the one consuming the building.

"There was no ceremony - S-she ran…I think, but her hands are bound…she can't have gotten very far…" Father White stuttered. He heard a growl come from the masked mans throat. Erik shoved the priest aside.

"I think you should get out –_ now_" He hissed, and then he continued to run up the stairs.

Father White did as he was told.

Erik found the top floor, smoke was everywhere. He ran down a long corridor, which lead him to another long corridor, and then another. He was, for once, lost in someone else's labyrinth. He didn't like it one little bit. He could hear something, a scuffling noise. At the end of this corridor, he could see two distant figures. They became clearer as he ran, but he was still too far to reach them in time. A girl was on her hands and knees, coughing weakly. The older woman managed to stand, and slap the girl across the face. The sound sent a crack through his heart.

The flow of mahogany curls was unmistakable, and the sound of her body hitting a hard floor made him see red. She wasn't moving. And Agatha Farnsworth was not going anywhere. A mist of anger overtook his mind.

Erik reached for his lasso.

XXXXX

Bertrand looked down the barrel of Lucien Piccard's gun. Erik had been right. As soon as Lucien entered the house he had come face to face with his old employer, his worst enemy, and his oldest friend.

Bertrand smirked; he seemed to know what was going to happen. It was like he found a small amount of amusement in his own impending death. Lucien had frozen, his thoughts dwelt on how many lives he had ruined at the whim of Edward Bertrand. So many unnecessary deaths, so much blood spilled. All because of one man, in a strange way, though, he knew the death of his brother wasn't a bad thing. Richmond admired Bertrand; he had been starting to resemble him. Lucien knew that the boy he had tried to protect for so long, the one he had watched grow, had died long ago. There was only one thing left to do.

Lucien made his first shot. Bertrand fell to the floor, holding his knee. Still he held that smirk. Lucien fired a shot in the other knee. This made Bertrand scream out.

"They were for your father and brother," Lucien spat "I should have known then, that I was killing the wrong members of the family! Your scheming and blackmailing drove me to that!" his anger was rising.

He shot again, this time in Bertrand's shoulder. "That was for Elaine, we could have had a happy life, she and I, but because of you I was never able to find out!" he kicked him in the stomach, and then the back. "That is for what you have put Miss Daae through!" At the sound of her name Bertrand seemed to try and get up, as if some part of him believed he would still be able to find her. But he had already lost too much blood, and fell back to the floor. Lucien now held the gun at his head.

"Y-you can't d-do it, _can you_?" Bertrand hissed weakly. Lucien felt his hand begin to shake; the confidence of this man was astounding. Even when he was moments from death he managed to maintain that smug arrogance. "You-r _nothing_ without me! You will perish in this w-world with-out me…you need a leader!" Lucien held the gun steady; he had heard enough.

"No, you are gravely mistaken, I will be free. I can walk out in the sunlight without your shadow covering me. And that poor girl will no longer need to look over her shoulder! This is where you deserve to die. You have no heirs, nobody will carry on your bloodline; the Bertrand name dies with you!" Bertrand's eyes grew wide "this one is for Richmond."

The last shot was fired. Lucien dropped the gun to the floor.

XXXXX

Erik had heard she shots. He had dragged Agatha into a small room; he tied her hands together, and then attached the other end of the rope to a wardrobe. He then placed a mirror in front of her. He had done this many times before; in Persia.

"There," he said "now you will be able to watch yourself burn." She cried and tried to struggle, but the ties would not budge. And the smoke was already making her dizzy. Erik turned and strode back onto the landing.

He pulled Christine's limp body into his arms. He tried not to look down at her, for the sight of her looking so lifeless brought tears to his eyes. And the smoke was beginning to hurt his body. The front of the house was crumbling under the intensity of the fire; he had no choice but to out the way he had come in. The corridors seemed longer, and the distance greater, fatigue was setting in, and he began to feel weary… then Christine stirred, ever so slightly, in his arms. She was definitely still alive. This galvanised his brain. They needed to get out. He could hear panels falling behind him, a whole family history up in flames. But that was what the Bertrand name deserved, to be burned to a cinder. He hoped that Lucien had done the job well. Mercy was not an option where that man was concerned.

He saw the stairs; they called out to him like a beckoning hand. He raced down them so fast that he nearly fell. And finally the door was there.

The fresh air hit him hard, and he could not control his coughing. But his coughing was a solitary noise. Christine was silent. He staggered as far away from the house as possible and lay her down on the grass. Her dress looked unusually tight, and Erik reached for the small dagger he kept on his belt. He cut the strings on her corset, and watched as her small form gained a normal shape. He loosened it as much as he could, and seethed inwardly at the sore lines on her skin where the contraption has been pulled tight. Still she did not move. He wanted her to scream, cry, cough, anything! Anything was better than her deathly silence.

He pulled her small body to his. His tears fell into her smoke scented hair; he buried his face in her neck, and there he felt something, a pulse. Life. She was still alive, and he could not give up on her. He knew that her small body was fighting, she was always fighting. His Christine was strong; much stronger than he had ever given her credit for.

He needed to get her away from this place.

He wrapped her in his cloak, and carefully picked her up. At the same time Lucien emerged from the house, coughing wildly with his hand over his mouth. By the look in his eyes Erik knew it was all over. He felt weariness like he had never felt before; he was not used to feeling physically weak; it disturbed him deeply. It was going to take all of his strength to get back to the inn.

Erik also felt a yearning for another place. A place he had never yearned for before. The House on the Hill, his home. For months it had been merely a building to him, somewhere to linger and dwell in bitterness. But since Christine had been there, it was home. A place full of sunlight and promise, things he had never dreamed could happen. She had made it home, their home. And he was determined they would return there soon, as husband and wife.

Erik and Lucien looked at each other; there were no words to say. They had done what they had set out to do. Now was not the time for talk. They mounted their horses and rode off slowly; leaving the Bertrand legacy to crumble behind them.

Erik said a prayer for the first time in years; _Please, God, please let her live! Save her and I will spend the rest of my life loving her as she deserves! I promise you! _

_Please don't take her away!_

XXXXX

AN: Phew! Nearly at the end! That was a hard one to write, I changed my mind loads of times…but I think this way everyone gets what they deserve!

Also, thanks for all of your kind words and reviews!


	28. Life Anew

Chapter 28: Life Anew.

Erik sat next to his silent angel. Wishing she could sing again, speak again…even shout out his name in anger again. He wanted to see those beautiful red lips move, he wanted to kiss them. He wanted so many things, but she could not answer his desperate prayers.

She was dressed in a beautiful white nightgown; Nicolette had helped to change her clothes. And the scratches she had received during the fire had been tenderly cleaned by Erik. As he looked at her now, she looked as perfect as the first day he had seen her. Her hair had been braided by Nicolette, and now fell in a neat plat over her left shoulder.

If it was possible, Erik felt that he loved her more now then he ever had before. He knew her now; he knew everything about his dearest girl. She was the other half of him, his good side. Her pale hands were resting outside of the coverlet, the red ruby ring, which Lucien had retrieved from Bertrand's corpse, shone out against her snow coloured skin.

Erik picked up one of her hands, and held it against his uncovered cheek. He hoped that some of his warmth would pass to her. He would sacrifice all of his strength to see those beautiful eyes open again, to see them sparkle with love. But still they remained closed to him. He was denied their light once more; all he could do now was dwell in the dark. He prayed then; he prayed that wherever she was, she was safe, and that she could hear him when he told her that he loved her.

Erik could hold back the tears no longer. He stood and walked from the room, feeling an insatiable need for air. Hoping it would distil the deep fog that masked his mind.

At the very same time, delicate fingertips began to stir against the blanket.

XXXXX _one day earlier…_

Raoul was finally falling asleep. Days! It had been days since he had last allowed his eyes to close in slumber.

Taking care of Nadir had tested the young man to the limit. His medical knowledge was basic, and the sight of so much blood had tested his abilities, but he was determined that the Persian would pull through. The Persian _had_ to pull through. He felt fortunate, to have met such a good man, something about the Daroga had touched him. He was a benevolent gentleman who managed to see the good in everyone, even a black soul like Erik. And he was always first to help others, his death would mean one less beautiful soul on earth.

The wounds had been cleaned and dressed, and the worst of the fever had passed. At the height of the fever, it had taken both Raoul and George to hold the Persian down. He had been in an intense delirium for days, shouting and crying out in his native tongue. He was strong, stronger than Raoul had ever thought. His heavy limbs twisted and writhed against the sheets. Causing unintended injury to the two men appointed to care for him.

Raoul knew Nadir was seeing his late wife and child, and calling out to be with them again. He could not understand what the Daroga was saying, but the passion with which he spoke sent chills into Raoul's soul. And at times, he thought Nadir would give up, so he could finally reside paradise with his family. To be with them forever… Raoul had been momentarily tempted to let Nadir's soul go free, when he was calm, he looked so at peace. Like he had finally found all the missing pieces, the puzzle of life was complete to him. Raoul was almost envious; this was a completeness he had never known.

But Nadir was still young, and strong. And Raoul was not content to give up on him.

"This is not your time, my friend!" Raoul had yelled, hoping some part of Nadir psyche could hear him. "Not yet, you are not ready to go…" but still the Persian seemed to be slipping away. And he suddenly had an idea to bring him back.

"Please, Nadir, you cannot leave, you cannot leave us to cope with Erik! We need you…he will kill us if you die! Please, do not leave us to the whim of that madman!" Raoul was sure he saw the smallest of smiles grace the Daroga's lips. Then his body relaxed, and he looked to be sleeping peacefully. Raoul put his face in his palms, and breathed a sigh of relief into his hands.

"_Erik__ isn't so bad." _said a weak voice. Raoul's head shot up. Nadir had opened his eyes, and was smiling at the young Vicomte.

Now, with the Daroga sleeping peacefully in the room next door, Raoul let his weary head sink down into the soft pillow. It seemed to cradle his exhausted face, and he nuzzled into its comforting embrace. The warmth and softness was delicious. He could feel the sharp sting in the back of his eyes begin to lessen. And his mind began to clear…he could feel his worries drift away.

Somewhere, in the realm of his dream, he could hear a bang, a clattering noise and a voice blazing. Why was he dreaming this? Then reality began to seep back in, unwelcome and slow. The bang had come from downstairs, a door being kicked open. The clattering was footsteps, and the voice…the voice was Erik, calling out his name.

"Vicomte!" Erik yelled, in moments Raoul appeared at the top of the stairs, he looked dishevelled and drained. Raoul's mouth fell open as he saw the lifeless figure of Christine in Erik's arms. His heart sank.

"I need a room," Erik said urgently "we need to stop all bleeding, she is breathing, but it is very faint…" Raoul helped him into a room, Erik lay Christine down on the bed. George, having overheard the commotion, came in next with some warm water and bandages. Erik nodded to him gratefully, and then began to clean the wounds on Christine's face.

"How is Nadir?" Erik asked suddenly. His long fingers continued to work thoroughly.

"The fever has passed, and he is sleeping now. I have managed to clean and wrap all of the wounds. He was awake and talking not so long ago. He should make a full recovery." Raoul stated.

"Thank you," said Erik.

"There is no need for thanks, I was happy to help monsieur Khan." They were both silent for a few moments. Raoul watched as Erik's nimble hands continued to clean the small cuts on Christine's forehead. His hands moved with precise, clinical accuracy. As if he had done this many times. But Raoul found it hard to imagine the Phantom actually _saving_ lives. But Erik's eyes told a different story. They seemed to have absorbed all of the fear in the world, and although there were no tears, they were the saddest eyes Raoul had ever seen. He suddenly felt very uncertain of Christine's future.

"…is there anything I can do?" Raoul asked gravely.

"She will need a change of clothing." Erik said, never taking his eyes from Christine. Raoul nodded, and disappeared. Erik gazed down at Christine, trying to keep the tears at bay. Raoul came back into the room after what seemed like an eternity, a nightgown and robe in his arms.

"These belong to George's niece; they look to be about the right size. There are more, George said to help ourselves as and when we need. She won't miss them." Erik glanced at the garments.

"I don't think they would fit us, Vicomte." he said dryly. And in spite of himself, Raoul smiled at the masked man's odd sense of humour. "Thank you, they will do nicely." Erik said sincerely.

Raoul wondered who this man was! Was it possible, had Erik really changed? It seemed the toils and trials of these last months had produced a softer side of the former Opera Ghost. The mist appeared to be clearing around his dark heart.

Erik glanced up again, and looked the young man up and down.

"Go and get some sleep, boy. You are of no use to me while you stand there and gawp like a dehydrated fish!" Raoul smiled inwardly, actually feeling relived. There had been no need to panic; the old Erik was back.

Then Raoul looked at Christine, he had to ask, there was to be no sleep for him if he did not ask.

"Will she – "

"Live? Yes, of course." Erik answered, faster than the crack of a whip. Raoul believed him. And yet there were more questions to ask.

"Bertrand and Agatha – are they?"

"Dead, Yes, _of course_." This time the answer dripped from Erik's lips slowly, forming a pool of satisfaction. Raoul shivered.

"What about Lucien?" Erik looked up at him, and motioned for him to sit in a small chair in the corner of the room.

Erik told him what had happened after the fire.

XXXXX _earlier…_

The horizon was consumed by black smog. The dark fumes rose up to the heavens, like souls reaching for absolution. It seemed that they were going the wrong way; surely smoke should sink into hell. The smell of destruction was pungent on the air, a bitter cocktail, mixed with decay, death, and an odd sense of hope. These three things combined stung the eyes. The house was gone; and so was the reign of Edward Bertrand.

Three lonely souls rode away from the destruction. But none were contented. Lucien did not feel the elation he had expected after killing his old advisory. He left the house with a hollow gut; he was alone now. They had been friends, once, when they were young. And fate had conspired to see one kill the other. But Lucien knew, deep down, that if he had not been the one to pull the trigger, he would have certainly been the one looking down a barrel. The murder of Richmond had said it all. Bertrand had to die.

Erik's mood was blacker than the furious smoke behind them. He was happy to have Christine back in his arms, where she belonged, but she was not conscious. And her breathing was so slight that he could only just feel it patter against the flesh of his neck. Her lungs were weak, and would remain weak for sometime. He only hoped that someday, she would be able to sing again. That had been her wish, when all of this was over, _just to be free, and sing again_. Erik did not know what he would do if he was unable to grant her this simple wish.

And Christine, she was lost in a different time, and a different place. Her mind was afloat in a sea of roses, music…and angels. But her heart yearned to wake, to look upon the face that haunted every part of her mind and body.

They had been riding for sometime now, just ahead the road split, two different paths lay waiting. Erik had not noticed which way they had been going, he had been content to follow Lucien, every thought he had was now on Christine's recovery. But now Lucien had stopped, and Erik did also.

"This is where I leave you," Lucien said distantly "that path will take you back to the Inn; you will be there before nightfall." Erik had been studying Lucien intently.

"And what of you? Where do you intend to go?"

"As far away from mankind as I can possibly get."

"Be careful, that is a very dangerous wish." Erik warned. "Once you make that decent, it is very hard to crawl back out."

"And where would you suggest I go then? I have no family, no friends…my soul is lost."

"Go to where all roads lead… Rome. The very sight of that city has saved my soul more times than you can imagine." Lucien was silent, considering Erik's words.

"And what is it that saves your soul now?" Lucien asked. Erik said nothing, but looked down sadly at Christine. "You should make haste; get her to the Inn as quickly as you can. I do not want you to have to join me in Rome."

"I will, and….thank you, for your help. I would not have found her otherwise." Erik said.

"Believe me, it was the very least I could do. Oh, I almost forgot…" Lucien reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring, Christine's ring. It was only now Erik noticed that she was wearing a different one.

"This fell out of Bertrand's pocket when…" Erik nodded in understanding "well, I assumed it belonged to her…to Christine."

"Thank you," Erik said, taking the ring and studying it intensely, he smoothed his thumb over the red stone. "I hope Rome does her job well…"

"So do I," said Lucien with a sigh "Farewell, maybe our paths shall cross again one day."

"Au revoir." said the masked man.

Erik gave the slightest of smiles, and then turned to ride in the direction of the Inn. Lucien watched the dark figure for a few moments, then turned and made his way along the other path, with a new destination in mind.

XXXXX

Christine could feel herself awakening before her eyes dared to open. She somehow felt safer with them closed. Instead, she put her trust in her other senses. Her body was warm and comfortable. She could feel a soft pillow against her cheek and covers wrapped around her small frame. She was most definitely in bed, but this room did not smell familiar. She was definitely not at home, at the house on the hill, where the air was tingled with the musky aroma of candles. And she was not in the de Chagny estate, where everything seemed to be made from the finest silk, these covers were soft, but they were most defiantly not silk.

She took a deep breath, and flinched slightly at the ache she felt deep within her lungs. Then, slowly, the images began to creep back, as if they were standing right behind her. She remembered a chase in the woods, a hand covering her face. She remembered the binds on her hands and feet, and being taken to _that _house. There was a wedding dress, a fight…and a fire…and Edward Bertrand.

At this her eyes shot open. Her breathing was suddenly very fast. She looked around. This room was unfamiliar, everything was unfamiliar. What if Bertrand had taken her after the fire! She needed to get out of this room!

She carefully pulled her legs out from the covers and winced as she tried to force her bruised body to move. She put her feet to the floor, her tiptoes met the soft carpet, and she began to edge off the bed.

"Don't even think about it." Boomed a voice from the doorway, Christine looked up. Erik was standing in the door, with a bowl of steaming hot water in his hands, his shirtsleeves were pulled up to his elbows, and his hair was dishevelled. His face was pulled into a deep frown. She pulled her legs back under the covers and sat back, never taking her eyes from him.

He began to walk to her, slowly, the frown never leaving his face. He placed the bowl on her bedside table, and sat down in the small chair he had occupied continuously over the last hours. She was staring at him, mouth opened slightly. She realised she hadn't seen him since the night at the de Chagny mansion. The night Nicolette had come to the house. But it didn't seem like that long, not at all in fact, because he always seemed to be with her. His frown had melted away now, and he was watching her silently, just as she was watching him. .

"Erik," she said softly, almost in disbelief. There was a slight strain in her voice, and she could see Erik's eyes widen in concern. But he seemed to ignore his own thoughts, and ran a finger across her cheek. Her flesh tingled under this simple touch, her eyes closed slightly. This was really real. He was really here. She took his hand in hers and held it on her cheek. "I've missed you so much," she whispered, he kissed her forehead.

Erik pulled Christine into his arms, and she clung to him desperately. This was real; they had found each other again. Erik made a silent pact with himself that from now on, wherever Christine went, he would only ever be one step behind.

"I was so worried, Christine." Erik said, letting the tears fall into her hair. "I thought I'd lost you forever. Please never leave me again."

"I won't, I promise…" she said, kissing his mouth. "I will never…" then his cheek "ever…" then his chin "leave you, ever again. I love you. Oh, Erik, I love you." then she kissed his lips again. He held her face in his hands, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs.

Christine's mind was tangled with emotion and questions. She had never been this happy, but there were so many things she didn't know.

"What happened, Erik? How did you find me? I thought I was lost forever…I was so frightened, I thought we would never see each other again…" her eyes were wide now, seeking answers.

"You know I would never let that happen, mon amour. You are safe now, there is no need to worry" he stated, but she did not seem satisfied with this answer. Erik sighed "I received help from a _very_ unlikely source, and all has ended well. Now, there will be time to speak of this later, you are still very weak and in need of rest." He lifted her from his lap and placed her in the bed. He began to arrange the blankets around her again. She rolled her eyes at his over protectiveness. Then her eyes landed on the ring that now rested on her finger. She held her hand up in amazement.

"Erik, where did you get this – Bertrand," she sat bolt up, "where is he? Erik, please tell me what happened."

"Hush, it's alright," said Erik, moving to sit on the bed next to her. He cradled her head in his arms. "He will never be able to find you again, Lucien saw to that."

"Lucien? Lucien that was trying to capture me? And the Lucien who hurt Nadir?" she had pulled away from him again, looking into his eyes desperately.

"Yes," Erik said grimly. "I do not forgive him for either of those things, but I believe that helping us was a small way for him to make amends. After all, had he not been here, I doubt I would have found you. Everyone deserves a chance at redemption, no matter how they have sinned. You taught me that, Christine." Christine smiled wryly.

"What about Nadir? Is he alright?"

"Yes, do not fret. That old fool will out live us all." Christine giggled "Le Vicomte and Nicolette are here also, they are both fine. And now I have a question for you, mon ange. How on earth did the fire start?"

"I kicked Agatha across the face and she fell into a candelabrum." She said. Erik smiled.

"I'm proud of you. She deserved to feel your wrath." Christine marvelled at how comfortable it was to be in his company again. It was like they had never been apart. Then a thought struck her.

"What happened to her? To Agatha, did you let her go?" Christine asked, looking up at Erik.

"I warned her once, that if she ever came near you again, she would not live long enough to regret it. I made sure she got what she deserved." He said grimly. Christine felt a chill creep up her spine. She knew better than to ask how it had happened.

"I can't believe it is finally all over." Christine said, trying to change the subject.

"Indeed, you are free now. Well, except from me."

"I don't ever want to be free from you, Erik. I would happily chain myself to you." she smiled up at him, and then cuddled up to his warm body. Feeling fatigue begin to take over her eyelids, Erik smiled, and pulled a blanket over Christine.

"And I to you, mon ange."

It wasn't long before sleep had claimed them both.

XXXXX _one week later…_

A new day had dawned, bright and clear. Spring seemed to be finally on the way. And she could not come too soon, for the decay left by her winter cousin needed to be melted away.

Erik was helping the stable hand secure his horse to the carriage, it had been necessary for them to stay on at the Inn for a week. Both Nadir and Christine had been too weak to travel. But now Erik was determined it was time to move on.

How strange it seemed to be here, out in the sun, helping the stable boy with his duties. And how normal this would be to anyone else, but for Erik this was a very strange experience, but a welcome one nonetheless. He had changed, he knew that, but he couldn't pinpoint exactly when this change had occurred. It seemed to be a slow, continuous process, sneaking up on him when he least expected it to. Like last night, when he had overheard a conversation between Christine and Raoul...

XXXXX

Erik left Nadir's chamber, he had spent the last few hours engrossed in conversation with his oldest friend. They had been thick as thieves the last two days, planning and talking until the late hours. Rousing suspicion in the other guests in the Inn, particularly Raoul, who had been trying to catch the masked man out with questions and suspicious looks. But Erik had held his tongue; he would reveal his new plans when he was ready, and not a moment sooner.

He made his way to the small sitting room, where Christine had been spending her evenings. Her strength was improving and she was sick of being cooped up in a bedroom. The firelight shone beneath the door, it was welcoming, but the warmth Erik craved did not come from the fire. He wanted to see the heat in the eyes of the person that loved him so tenderly. There were voices from the other side of the door, he stopped and listened, he knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but old habits _did _die hard. He knew both voices instantly.

"I was so scared for you, Christine; I thought it was my duty to protect you. To try to save you, I suppose that's the way I always saw you, as a victim. It was easier to understand the choices you made, when you were the completely innocent one. And now I see you as you are, not a victim, but a woman. One that has always been free to make her own choices…" there was a long silence.

"I don't understand what you mean, Raoul."

"What I'm trying to say is that after everything, I respect you, Christine. I respect you for having the strength to follow your heart, even though what was in it scared you." he laughed softly "I know what you meant now, at the Opera, when you told me that you were scared, it wasn't in the way I thought, was it."

"No. But the truth is that I didn't understand it then either." There was silence once more.

"You'll always be that girl I met by the sea, the one who believed in fairytales and magic…"

"I haven't changed that much, I still love fairytales!" she laughed. "And you, my dear Raoul, will always be the boy who retrieved my scarf from the sea, my best friend."

"That's all I needed to know." He said "And now, I shall leave you, goodnight, Christine"

"Goodnight, Raoul."

Erik could hear footsteps approaching the door, he ducked into the shadow. Raoul emerged, glanced back at Christine once more, and descended down the hallway. Erik didn't feel the anger he thought he would. It was a strange feeling, and took him a few moments to get used to. He still didn't like the boy, but he was part of Christine's past. And it was clear he was trying to let her go, that he had let her go. Erik knew his jealousy would do nothing but push her away. It was time to trust her.

He took a deep breath and entered the room. Christine looked up, and it was clear from her shining eyes who it was that she loved.

XXXXX

Erik walked to the carriage, he and Christine had said their goodbyes to George, and now she was safely tucked up in the carriage. Raoul and Nadir had gone on ahead, they had both been eager to get back to the de Chagny mansion, where Madame Giry and Meg were waiting. Christine and Erik were due to meet them there later on today.

"I hope you are comfortable, mon ange, it is a bumpy road to - " Erik paused, the back seat was empty. He looked around, dumbfounded. He walked around to the drivers bench, and saw his beloved sitting there contently, a blanket over her lap.

"I thought I'd ride up front with you." she said sweetly.

"Absolutely not, you are still too weak, Christine." She rolled her eyes

"Erik, I am fine. You are like a worried old woman sometimes!" Erik's eyes widened in surprise "And anyway I'm not moving. If you want me to go back in there you will have to move me by force." She held her head high and folded her arms triumphantly.

"With pleasure!" Erik exclaimed, pulling her from the bench into his arms. She squealed and began to kick her legs.

"Erik! Please, I don't want to sit in there alone, I want to sit with you! If I feel unwell I will go inside, I promise!" her eyes were wide and pleading.

"Oh, very well." Erik sighed, placing her back on the seat, she smiled brightly. Moments later he had climbed up beside her, and with a crack of the whip they were on there way. Erik kept one hand on the reins, and the other around Christine. She had placed the blanket over his lap. She continued to smile contently.

"Are you alright, Christine?" Erik said suspiciously.

"Yes, I'm just happy. We can finally put everything behind us; I cannot tell you how much I am looking forward to a quiet life, just the two of us!"

"Quiet life? Oh, my dear you are greatly mistaken, I'm afraid your biggest challenge is yet to come." Christine looked at him questioningly.

"Whatever do you mean, Erik?"

"Married life with me, my dear, I'm afraid there is no room for a quiet life with what I have planned for us." Christine smiled, and rested her head on his shoulder.

There was a long road ahead of them, and she knew she was going to love living every minute of it.

_The End. _

XXXXX

AN: Thanks for reading, guys! Let me know what you thought of the story. I'm planning a new story, and should hopefully be posting it very soon!


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